


Liminal Spaces

by awkwardedgeworth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, avatar AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2020-11-02 03:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20610431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardedgeworth/pseuds/awkwardedgeworth
Summary: Iwaizumi stands up from the couch and sees a tall man with glasses, perfectly coiffed hair and wearing a dark blue windbreaker.The stranger locks eyes with him."Yahoo~" A large hand is extracted from a pocket and waves in his direction. "Miss me, Iwaizumi?"Oikawa disappears after graduation, and finds Iwaizumi twenty years later.





	1. The Avatar Returns

"—_The Avatar has spent the last few days in Switzerland where many national leaders attended this conference to discuss further talks on education, peace and human rights. The Council of Four were interrupted with the news of the French cathedral, Notre Dame, burning. Sources told us that all three rose windows have been safely recovered, and that the source of the fire—_"

His ears fills with static, and Iwaizumi shuts off his car radio as he enters the underground parking lot, weaving and turning through the floors. He could do this blindfolded and drunk, that's how familiar he is with the layout of this building and the floors above.

"Morning," Yachi greets when the elevators doors open. He wiggles into the metal box as it shoots up.

"Early shift?"

"Autoimmune."

"I thought that one started at eight?"

Yachi lets out a massive yawn, blonde hair swept back and arranged in a low bun with a peony hair pin stuck through it. If he recalled correctly, Suga from Occupational Health and Nursing gifted that to her when she graduated. "There was a hit and run a few hours ago that's still going on. I got called early because night shift were all hands on deck to save the patient." The doors open and Iwaizumi slips out, waving as Yachi and several others continue to shoot up towards the upper floors.

Akaashi is already perusing patient files in the physician's lounge when he enters, wearing a powder blue hospital scrubs and white coat with his ID badge pinned to the breast pocket. Iwaizumi heads over to the lockers to change before joining Akaashi on the couch, clipping his pager to his chest.

"Iwaizumi-san, I'm leaving these for you." Akaashi flutters his thin fingers at three files off to the side, "Two hip replacements for next week and a patient needing his rupture tendon taken care of...in an hour."

Iwaizumi grunts and Akaashi takes that as his cue to leave and start his rounds with the junior doctors. He flips through the patient history, current medication, current blood work, reason of visit, very routine things. He lets out a discreet yawn, blinking the tears away from his eyes.

What was not routine, though, are the increasingly loud voices outside the lounge, two voices pitched high as they chase someone down the hall. Akaashi, on his way to the door, pauses in concern as several other doctors in the lounge look up from their coffees and files before the 8 AM rounds begin.

"What in the world?" One grumbles, irritated.

Iwaizumi arches an eyebrow, and the door slams open.

"Sir, you can't just..." One of the nurses feebly say at the door, huffing and slightly bent.

Akaashi stiffens, and Iwaizumi stands up from the couch and turns around the corner of the bookcase hiding the front of the lounge, seeing a tall man with glasses, perfectly coiffed hair and wearing a dark blue windbreaker.

The stranger peers through the faces before locking eyes with him.

"Yahoo~" A large hand is extracted from a pocket and gets waved in his direction. Iwaizumi sits there, stunned; Oikawa Tooru finally came home. "Miss me, Iwaizumi?"

Hanamaki and Matsukawa sits across Oikawa, their faces somewhere between confusion and alarm as Iwaizumi pokes his hospital-made curry with his spoon, Oikawa talking at a hundred miles a minute like they were seventeen and aiming for Spring High all over again. 

"—met Niiyama-chan over my way here, you never told me that she started residency!"

Hanamaki takes a second to respond, or find his tongue, "She found out that physical therapy wasn't for her so she went back to school a few years ago."

"Ah, well, it's not per the traditional ways, but I'm glad that she finally found what she wants to do!" Oikawa takes a large bite out of the katsudon steaming in front of him. Half his face is covered by the brim of his baseball cap, and he's zipped his windbreaker so high that part of his chin is covered. Even if he was trying his hardest to blend in, several people in the cafeteria gave their table odd glances in five minute intervals.

Matsukawa gives him a quick glance. Iwaizumi stares back at him, unperturbed.

"So, the conference went well then? I heard the cathedral was on fire several hours ago," Hanamaki attempts at a conversation, digging his fork in the spaghetti and accidentally knocking over his cup of barley tea. Oikawa freezes the liquid in mid-air without a second thought, preventing a messy spill.

Iwaizumi decides that he's given his miso soup enough time to cool and starts working on his lunch as Oikawa rambles on about flights and delays and layovers and his long legs not being able to fit in economy, clearly avoiding the topic of France.

"You're the Avatar," He finds himself saying, still quiet enough that his voice melds into the cafeteria but loud enough that Oikawa stiffens slightly, "You should have chartered your own private jet if your legs were going to suffer."

Oikawa gives a nervous laugh, pushing his glasses further up his nose. With a wave of his hand, Hanamaki's tea unfreezes and splashes back into his cup, "Ah, see, about that. I lost my guards in France—"

Hanamaki coughs.

Matsukawa spits out his ramen broth and bean sprouts, "You _what?!_"

"I lost my guards in France," Oikawa grins. Iwaizumi studies him, seeing him fidget with the sleeve of his windbreaker. Even if he hasn't seen the menace in twenty long years with no contact, that tick is as familiar as the texture of his old Aoba Johsai jersey. "And they don't really know that I was planning to come back here—"

"Are you telling me the White Lotus lost you because you didn't intend to come back to Japan in the first place?" Hanamaki groans and moans, putting his face in his hands, "Oikawa, you're so dumb. Now the entire world is going to look for you."

"No they won't!" Comes the too cheerful reply.

Iwaizumi clears his throat and points to the large flat-screen a few feet away from them, the words rolling on the bottom of the screen as a commercial for hemorrhoids suppositories play.

BREAKING NEWS: AVATAR NOT PRESENT IN PEACE SUMMIT. WHITE LOTUS HAVE NO COMMENT TO SAY SO FAR.

_"This is a dumb idea."_

_"No it isn't!" Oikawa says, wobbling in mid-air as he clutches the twisted wires of the gate around the high school pool. The sun above sears the exposed skin of their neck, and Iwaizumi's school uniform is soaked with sweat. "They can't yell at us for wanting to dip our feet into some cold water."_

_"They can yell at us for breaking and entering, dumbass!"_

_Oikawa gasps, "Iwa-chan, that is a bad word!"_

_Iwaizumi slowly peers down and judges the distance to jump. He releases his hold and lands, the aftershocks making his ankle feel week and static-y. But it's a landing without bruises or broken bones, so he stares up and beckons Oikawa to do the same, "Snitch on me, I dare you."_

_Oikawa gives him a look, annoyed, because Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa is a ride-or-die friend who wouldn't tell on him even if the school's authority figures are breathing down their necks. He claps his hands free of dust and runs for the deep blue pool when he lands, "Oh! Water!"_

_"Hey!" Iwaizumi shouts, turning, "Don't run!—"_

_Oikawa's shoes slip on the tiles, and he falls face first into the deep end with a large splash._

_"Oikawa!" Iwaizumi runs to the edge, watching as a set of pale arms tries to wade water. Did Oikawa really look that small, like a tiny half-floating toy amongst deep blue water? _

_"Iwa!—" Oikawa gargles._

_"Hold on! HELP!" Iwaizumi yelps, turning left and right. What should he do? "SOMEBODY HELP! WE'RE AT THE POOL! HEEELP!"_

_"—wa!—"_

_He looks around for a life ring to toss, or to see if anyone was nearby. But the high school students are all off today on holiday and no one seems to be around. Could he sprint to the fence, run out and grab someone at the main road? But how fast can he sprint? _

_It's quiet._

_He sprints to the edge and leaps._

_The cold shocks him, and he sees bubbles erupt from his mouth. He clambers up for air, paddling to where Oikawa is sinking rapidly, taking a deep inhale and diving._

_He grabs onto a blurry looking arm, tugging his friend upwards while slapping his face. The lack of bubbles worries him, and he starts panicking when he realizes how deep they've dove, and how Oikawa isn't moving up even though Iwaizumi has given him what little push he can in the water._

_And an even bigger realization: he has no air left._

_He kicks desperately with his legs, losing a shoe in the process when it dances in front of him and floats back down. He wonders if this is what Oikawa had felt like when he got a fever several days ago, absolute agony with everything burning him from the inside out. His legs are burning, his chest is burning, his eyes are burning._

_He clings harder to Oikawa, pushing him up._

_In the process, Oikawa floats up several centimeters and rolls around, eyes closed with his fluffy hair floating peacefully around him. Iwaizumi, starved for oxygen and finally tired, coughs his last remaining air and feels water fill inside his mouth, the cool temperature comforting him. It's cold. Why did they think dipping their feet into the high school pool was a good idea? The water is so cold, and the bottom is probably coated with slimy algae._

_Oikawa's body thumps against his softly, and like something had possessed him, he opens his eyes and white light erupts from within. _

_Iwaizumi wasn't sure what happened next, but he remembers seeing a large stream of fire coming out of Oikawa's hands, whose movements seem too controlled for his tiny body, and next, he feels adult-sized hands scooping him out of the pool, several people yelling._

_"...Oi, brat."_

_He rolls his eyes up from where he's lying on a blanket, a man wearing a drenched suit crouching beside him. Iwaizumi spits out more water from his lungs as the teacher pats his back lightly, wiping his mouth with a not-so-wet towel. Several feet away, Oikawa is also sitting up in someone's lap and vomiting pool water and the remnants of his lunch onto the searing tiles, face pinched._

_"Iwaizumi-brat, are you okay?"_

_He weakly nods, tasting chlorine in his nose, "...Oikawa?"_

_"Your buddy is fine. The Avatar spirit saved both of you from drowning," Iwaizumi is propped into a sitting position, his back leaned against the wire fence. Across the pool, he sees his mother's pale face bob up and down as she tries to push through the paramedics and teachers hovering around._

_"Hajime! Hajime!"_

_"Thank you..." He coughs, looking up at the face of the teacher who saved him. The teacher shrugs, wringing his tie as the corners of his suit continue to drip onto the concrete, leaving dark spots where they land._

_"No problem, kid."_

"And why the fuck are you coming back to _my _place?" Iwaizumi grouses, driving through the bumper-to-bumper traffic that is Tokyo at rush hour. Oikawa is sitting at the passenger's side, wearing a wig he procured out of _somewhere _so his brown hair is replaced with a style reminiscent of Fire Lord Zuko in his teenage years. If asked for his opinion, Iwaizumi would say that Oikawa looks like he's about to rob the nearest ATM.

"We're best friends!"

"Die."

Oikawa laughs, and rattles on about another story of his great quest in France for the best croissant the city has to offer. Iwaizumi listens with a half ear as he slips down some side street, eventually getting to his apartment building and aiming the remote key at the gate so it can pull up to reveal the parking lot.

Oikawa slips out of the car and falls in step beside him, "Say, why do you drive when Ebisu and St. Luke's aren't that far away from each other? Don't the trains still run at this hour?"

"I don't know how long I stay there mostly," Iwaizumi presses the number 17 and the elevators close, "There had been times I come home after the last train has passed, and the taxi fares adds up."

"The hospital doesn't reimburse you? Lame," Oikawa steps into the genkan and shuffles his shoes off, pulling the wig off in one smooth move to fluff his hair to its previous voluminous shape. Iwaizumi hangs his coat as Oikawa wanders a few steps in and surveys his apartment.

Iwaizumi watches him.

The last time he had been face to face with Oikawa had been during high school graduation, with the tear inducing cherry blossoms shedding their petals everywhere and nostalgic atmosphere of never going back to childhood. This Oikawa is more arrogant, more confident, taller and bulkier, but still has the barest trace of uncertainty at the corners of his eyes. 

He pauses, still hovering between the living room and hallway. It's been years since he last thought about Oikawa. There's no reason to care about him anymore.

"Inception?" Oikawa gravitates to a few retro movie posters on the wall.

"I like to watch old movies when I'm off. What do you want for dinner?"

Oikawa gasps, "You can cook?"

"Only miso soup," Iwaizumi feels a laugh bubbling up, and when it comes out, it sounds hoarse and unnatural. "I eat mostly frozen stuff, as you can tell, it's past nine and this is the earliest I've been home for three weeks. I usually go to Lawson's or 7-Eleven for discounts."

Oikawa frowns a little at that, but hip checks Iwaizumi to open his fridge, immediately pulling out an onion, garlic, miso soup, and the frozen cheese he's been hoarding in his freezer, "I'm going to make a poor recreation of risotto. Begone, vengeful spirit!"

"Are you shooing me out of my own kitchen?"

Oikawa smirks, pointing his finger at the gas burner and immediately making a small ring of blue fire appear, "Yes."

Iwaizumi decides to take a shower, filling the tub until near capacity before sticking his hand into the water and waiting until the entire bath starts to boil. He withdraws some heat and sinks into the nearly scalding water. It's uncomfortable at first, but it eventually soothes him and he reaches back and puts a hand on his shoulders and starts massaging the area.

When he comes out, steam accompanying him, he sees that Oikawa has opened all the doors to his drawers and cabinets in a fruitless attempt to look for something. There are two bowls on the tiny dining table, along with two miso soups.

"Is someone hiding your tea hostage?" Comes the complaint.

"I ran out," Iwaizumi dismissively says, sitting down and watching Oikawa trying to fold his gangly frame into the dining chair and avoid knocking Iwaizumi's knee. He peers down at his food, which looks like a drier version of congee with cheese mixed in.

"Normally you use butter, broth and arborio rice, but I didn't see that in your fridge so we'll have to do without it. There's unfortunately no protein in this dish," Oikawa continues to speak, stirring one singular chopstick in his soup bowl before sipping some. "And there's a fine lack of vegetables. Are you eating properly?"

"I can feed myself just fine," Iwaizumi spoons some of the risotto into his mouth. There's a distinct taste of miso underlying the cheese, but it's not terrible. It's good actually, there's a nutty flavour from the rice, which he guesses Oikawa had sauteed on high heat before adding the liquid to soften the rice.

"Actually," Oikawa's eyes sparkles, "I found these."

"My beer stash," Iwaizumi rolls his eyes as Oikawa procures two beers he had been hiding in his pockets, cold to the touch. "Figures."

They pop off the tab, cheering quietly and continuing to eat. It's a scene that the Iwaizumi from twenty years ago would do anything to have.

Oikawa looks seventeen and seventy at the same time when he's actually thirty-eight. Iwaizumi looks at him more closely, how the LED light makes the skin beneath his eyes look thin for his age. The red eyeliner at the edge of his eyes are smudged, and the black under his eyes are rubbed to create a tired raccoon effect. Asides from that, Oikawa would have looked like he never left Japan for two entire decades.

"Why _did _you run away?"

The can Oikawa is holding blooms in frost all over the green and mint coloring, before slowing melting and reappearing. Iwaizumi knows that's a simple trick the waterbenders around him can do, it's taught in the first level of summer training camps for those who can bend. 

It's been several seconds. Iwaizumi knows he's going to lie.

"I deserve a vacation, I'll let you know," Oikawa haughtily tilts his head, leaning back in his chair and looking off to the side. The glasses droops down his button nose, "_There's no rest for the Avatar, _they say. No wonder Aang and Korra ran away." He then perks up and shoots Iwaizumi a tired smile, "But Masaru didn't ever take breaks." 

The previous Avatar was coincidentally Hajime's maternal grandfather. The man only saw Iwaizumi once, several days after he was born in the hospital, before dying at an early age.

"My grandfather isn't you, or Avatar Aang. Or Avatar Korra in that matter."

Oikawa looks at him like he found a stray cat outside his window but doesn't really know what to do with it and is just content on studying him, "I guess."

As Iwaizumi clears the plates, he remembers the Oikawa of the past, obsessing over Tikachu and weird alien movies. Was that what he watches now in the present to relax himself? Does he still like milk bread or has travelling the world broaden his palette?

So many questions about Oikawa, but none he can answer.

"Do you want your futon to be set up right now?"

Oikawa springs up, hair bouncing, "That sounds good, but," He gets hip-checked away again, watching Oikawa pull water from the tap from a simple wave of his hand, "I'm a waterbender too. At least let me pay my fee for intruding."

Oikawa squirts some soap into a bowl, and uses his pointer finger to spin the water around the cutlery before moving the water-soap blob to the next items. Iwaizumi looks on, impressed, and watches Oikawa separate a small stream from the faucet into a mist to water his hanging air plants, courtesy of his ex-girlfriend.

"Amazed?"

"Well, sort of," Oikawa waves his dominant hand over the bowls and utensils, creating a breeze that instantly dries it. "No one really uses bending anymore since there's no need to."

Oikawa nods, leaning against the sink and staring wistfully, "Bending nowadays aren't the same, it's not even a requirement anymore for Fire Lords."

Iwaizumi stares at his childhood friend, still dressed in black joggers and a nondescript grey t-shirt, "You want a match?" He suddenly says. 

Oikawa turns around and stares, "Is there a bending gym nearby that's open at this hour?"

"There's a 24/7 one."

"Well then Iwaizumi-sensei," Oikawa smiles, pulling his wig out of the back pocket of his pants, "Prepare to taste your defeat."

"If I fall asleep on the bench tomorrow, your lab results won't be out in a timely manner," Hanamaki grouses, yawning and wearing a too-big sweater that's tucked in ankle-length jeans. 

Iwaizumi stretches forward for his toes, ignoring the insults thrown above his head. He doesn't have work tomorrow, so a late night session of spontaneous bending battle wouldn't do much harm asides from a sore back if he doesn't stretch out properly. Matsukawa is lugging some earth discs to the front where a few barrels of water sit.

Iwaizumi is starting to think that challenging the Avatar to a bending battle might not have been one of his greatest ideas.

"This feels weird," Matsukawa's quiet voice says, as he drops down beside him. To their left, Oikawa is chasing Makki around the enclosed gym, laughs and screams echoing up to the high ceilings. Iwaizumi had made sure to check for cameras before booking a room just in case Oikawa's fantastic wig flies off and he wakes up to angry members of the White Lotus storming his apartment and demanding why he had kidnapped the Avatar.

He looks at his ankles, "I still don't believe he's here."

Matsukawa stays silent, sitting in blue basketball shorts and a black long sleeve. His long fingers massages his wrist absently in the exercises Iwaizumi had shown him ten years ago, fresh and slightly cynical from graduating medical school and finishing his clerkship. 

"You working tomorrow?"

"Five o'clock start, Iwaizumi-sensei."

Iwaizumi winces and gives a small smile, "Sorry. First round on me next time."

Matsukawa gives him an easy smile and turns his head to look at Oikawa, scratching his ear, "You know, he really hasn't changed. If anything I would have thought someone pranked me and pulled me back in time. He doesn't look any different from when he left us at seventeen."

Iwaizumi remembers the White Lotus appearing in his bedroom doorway, requesting to speak to Oikawa privately, and Oikawa coming back looking aghast and like everything in his life was a massive lie.

The current Oikawa screeches as Makki headlocks him, arms windmilling as large alligator tears form. Iwaizumi stands to turn to Matsukawa, "You can't know for sure," To Oikawa, he yells, "Shittykawa! Are you warmed up yet?"

"Coming!" He wiggles free from Hanamaki's arms, sidling up to Iwaizumi's personal bubble. From this angle, Iwaizumi could lean forward a foot and kiss him.

Instead, he breaks Oikawa's root and avoids a plume of fire from Oikawa's fist. 

Oikawa stumbles, the fire goes out, and Iwaizumi form fire whips, causing Matsukawa and Hanamaki to yelp and run away to the sidelines. He raises his arms up, long tendrils following the movement, and flicks the ends of his hands so Oikawa is trapped with two flamethrowers licking him from left and right. The skin on his forearm burns.

Avatars aren't needed anymore, not in this day and age where bending is a lost art. Summer camps for benders exist for those who wish to attend, but it was treated like martial arts - a hobby. It was mandatory for firebenders however, to control their flame and not cause an accidental case of arson.

"_Are you suicidal?!_" Iwaizumi screeches, watching Oikawa run into the flames like he's not wearing flammable clothing. His question is solved one second later when one of the many metal bracelets that Iwaizumi had not given much care when he saw it perched on Oikawa's wrist earlier tonight flattens into a shield, promptly blocking the flames.

Two whizzing earth discs slams into him, and he falls on his butt, annoyed.

"Already tired?" Oikawa cheerfully asks, shield melting back into the innocent bracelet. From the sides, Matsukawa releases an enormous yawn. "And besides, I was _born _a firebender, give me some credit, I'm not so amateur that I will let myself burn!"

Iwaizumi squints, assesses, before tackling Oikawa and wrestling him down.

There's a screech of betrayal, lots of yelping, Iwaizumi getting drenched with water, lots of steam from said person who was once soaked, and a sweating Oikawa trapped in a gogoplata.

"General Iroh once said that 'Pride is not the opposite of shame, but it's source.' If we go by that, then I wonder if your insufferable attitude is the source of all your stupidity."

"Iwa-chaaaaan," Oikawa pleads, his sniffles becoming squawks of pain, "You played dirty!"

Iwaizumi holds his breath as he gets doused in more water, before heating his inner fire so all the water in the barrels have evaporated, "This is why I had to play dirty! Because you do too!"

"I'm an innocent eel hound!" Oikawa attempts to squirm away from Iwaizumi's shins.

"Oikawa lost, Iwaizumi 1-0." Hanamaki calls from the side, looking very annoyed and sweaty but intrigued as he holds his cellphone to record them.

Oikawa notices, and digs his fingers into Iwaizumi's side, who grunts and loosens his hold. "Wait, Makki," Oikawa half runs up to him, hair plastered to his forehead due to the high humidity and steam in the room, "My family doesn't know I'm in Japan, so if you could please not spread that around—"

"Who do you take me for Oikawa?" Hanamaki rolls his eyes, "The entire world thinks you played kooky. And I know the rules. The moment the White Lotus knows you're back they're going to hunt you down and ship you off again until you're retirement age, then maybe they'll think about giving you a vacation."

Oikawa laughs, the fakeness grating his ears. Iwaizumi could sense his unease, and judging by his nervous tics, that's exactly what the White Lotus had been doing. He steps forward, opening his mouth, then hesitating.

This is the most fun he's had since undergraduate classes; no one wanted to bend with him in the university clubs because of his grandfather's legacy. Oikawa is an excellent bender, Iwaizumi knows he had gone easy earlier, but he also wanted to confront him about the White Lotus.

But they both look like they can benefit from a mindless match of fighting anyway.

He decides it can wait until another opportunity, holding up both fists and creates fire daggers, smirking. 

Oikawa's eyes widens, but he nonetheless steps forward and draws the moisture from the air into a ribbon of water around his shoulders.

"I miss these," Oikawa moans, stuffing his mouth with the fifth softboiled egg they bought from 7-Eleven, his Fire Lord Zuko wig still mostly in place. Hanamaki and Matsukawa are sipping some variations of bottled green tea and waiting for their instant noodles to cook. "It's so creamy! And so delicious! And, and!"

"Calm down there, homefry," Hanamaki wryly says, "You're drawing unnecessary attention from the person at the register."

"They don't care about some crazy looking dude moaning over eggs," Iwaizumi inserts, cracking open a bottle of peach calpis and sitting down on their rickety plastic table outside as the sun starts to rise, the temperature still chilly. He can feel the humidity around them; it'll be unbearable come ten o'clock. He pushes some of Oikawa's bakery goods off to the side to make room for several bentos and onigiris. 

Matsukawa opens a packet of dried squid, munching on a strand, "You haven't told us about your crazy adventures. How's travelling the world?"

"Nothing to tell to be honest. The 7-Elevens in North America are so upsetting to go into, one time I got diarrhea from there and Master Arojin was not happy when I couldn't do my airbending exam the following day," Oikawa sniffs, sipping some broth and looking as if he has transcended. "You all are privileged to have good ones here."

"I'm not asking about your convenient store adventures. Tell us about your Avatar ones."

Oikawa shrugs, pulling apart a cheesy curry bun into quarters, "I pretend to act important when the rest of the world thinks I'm nobody," He chews and throws them a sad, genuine smile, "It's kind of disheartening to tell you the truth. There are people who come up to my guards and tell me that there's no need for an Avatar anymore."

Iwaizumi glares at Hanamaki, who is sending him the a panicked, wide-eyed look.

Hanamaki makes the executive decision to shower Oikawa with two decades worth of Japanese convenience store food. Oikawa inhales everything happily, splitting everything on the table into quarters so they are also eating everything with him. Iwaizumi finishes anything that couldn't be finished, the last dregs of Yakult, the other half of a strawberry and cream sandwich that left Oikawa upset as he couldn't bring some back with him, several mouthfuls of various types of noodles and udon that makes into one meal for him, and a lot of dried squid and seaweed he's bringing home.

They decide to part after Iwaizumi goes grocery shopping and Oikawa raids a Lawson's store. Hanamaki and Matsukawa walks over to Ebisu station and they promise to meet up with Oikawa soon after a good session of sleep.

"Hiroo Hospital is closer than St. Luke's," Oikawa ponders on the way home as they pass a park. "Why didn't you go there instead?"

Iwaizumi shrugs, the heavy grocery bags making arms ache. Though he bested Oikawa in the first round, he was flattened without mercy five rounds later, and Oikawa had to call the sixth round off when Iwaizumi sprained his ankle. It was healed with waterbending, but the rest of his body is aching and he's trying to maintain his composure at least until he arrives back in his apartment before becoming one with the floor.

Oikawa collapses on the hallway, grumbling of a lower back pain, and Iwaizumi steps over him to put his groceries away as fast as possible, throwing the futon on the floor beside him bed. 

The sun is properly up now and he can feel his sleepiness fading away as his room continues to brighten.

He hollers for Oikawa to sleep, draws the blackout curtains to block his windows and promptly passes out after tossing his shirt somewhere in his room.

_"You should go back," Iwaizumi urges Oikawa, who is trying his best to become a ball, crouching beside the yellow corn fields. He lamely pats Oikawa's hair, "Your sister will get worried."_

_Oikawa sniffs, big large eyes watering ever since he climbed into Iwaizumi's window after school and promptly sobbed large crocodile tears._

_"I don't want to train," Comes the petulant tone. At this, more tears slide off his red cheeks. Iwaizumi looks around, only seeing a lonesome figure biking past the field after work. The sun is still high up in the sky, though not for long. "I want to spend my summer swimming with Iwa-chan!"_

_"It's only for a month," Iwaizumi tries to reason with him, "We're on summer break anyway, so it hardly matters that you're missing—"_

_At this, Oikawa raises his head up and scowls, "Iwa-chan! I want to spend my summer swimming and going to the beach with you! Not training in some dojo with other firebenders!"_

_"What's so bad about firebending?" Iwaizumi is starting to feel annoyed at this point. He was playing Kirby before Oikawa somehow climbed the tree between their houses and leaped from the branch to the roof shingles below his window. "I wish I can bend."_

_Oikawa grows silent at that, frowning and jutting his lips out, "I don't want to go there alone."_

_"Sometimes you have to do things alone, Tooru," A female figure wearing a seifuku slips out of a nearby row of corn. There's a few scratches on her arms but Iwaizumi steps back as Oikawa sulks. _

_"Chiyoru-neesan."_

_Chiyoru gives him a brief smile, "Thanks for staying with him, Hajime. He might burn down a field if he accidentally sees a spider or something."_

_At the mention of a spider nearby, Tooru stands up and edges away from the corn, trying his hardest to avoid locking eyes with his sister while trying to hide behind Iwaizumi._

_"Hiding won't do you any good," Chiyoru insists, sighing and picking up Oikawa by his armpits and putting him on her shoulders. Oikawa squirms and makes a general fuss, but he's stopped crying now, knowing that he's caught. The older sister beams down at Hajime, "Say, what do you think of having dinner at our place? Our mother made some gyudon and there's some agedashi tofu."_

_"Come eat, Iwa-chan!" Tooru chirps from his station._

_Iwaizumi nods and follows the duo, holding onto Chiyoru's hand as Tooru holds onto her hair like he's a jockey._

He turns in his bed, eyes still closed, the last dredges of a memory fading away. Iwaizumi feels like he had collided with a road roller, flattened into a pancake, and molded back into a humanoid shape. He lets out a soft groan and wiggles until he hears his pelvis snap back properly.

A soft snore stops, "Iwa?" It asks.

"Go back to sleep," He grumbles, firmly closing his eyes and burrowing back into his pillow to chase the grogginess. He sighs when he hears the futon rustle.

Oikawa is sitting up, red and black eyeliner gone, eyebrows less harsh and angular. Yet his poofy, bouncy hair remained. He looks somber, as if he had been visited by several past Avatars who had some choosy words to say.

"Something troubling you?" Iwaizumi decides to be the good friend, speaking out loud to the ceiling and studying the way the darkness looms over them even though his bedside clock reads 14:52. He hasn't checked his cellphone, and hopes that Akaashi hasn't called him in for something. 

_Ah that's right_, he reminisces, Oikawa used to sleepover in his room, back when they had no idea that Oikawa was the next Avatar and only knew of deep blue pools and sticky popsicles that leave their tongues orange.

He hasn't worried about Oikawa since he was twenty-seven. He fooled himself by following Oikawa's social media presence online through tracking him on Google and NHK News. It was how they all felt when Oikawa shed his high school uniform and donned a red and black shapeless jersey, a sports bag over one shoulder as he promises to keep in touch hours after graduation.

It was how they validated themselves that they were his good friends.

"Bad dreams," Comes the quiet murmur. Oikawa scratches his forehead, "Nothing new. I do have a question, could I check your phone?"

Iwaizumi tosses it into the air haphazardly, watching Oikawa catch it with airbending and steering it to his hands. A pale blue light fills the dark room and he hears the faintest click of nails hitting his touchscreen.

"The White Lotus hasn't said anything," Oikawa says, dumbfounded. Iwaizumi has heard that tone only a few times in his life, seeing that Seijoh's former captain was usually three steps ahead of their opponents. "The world still thinks I'm playing kooky and reaching a mid-life crisis where I want to be left alone."

Iwaizumi rolls on his right side and stares. There's a pair of ankle braces made of metal on the foot of the futon (no doubt doubling as a potential source of metal to bend if Oikawa was ever in a pinch) along with the bracelets Iwaizumi had seen yesterday. Oikawa is still wearing his nondescript grey t-shirt and black joggers, and he has a mind to lend the Avatar some new clothes. And possibly deodorant.

"Are they wrong?"

Oikawa sharply looks up, looking more vulnerable with his arms hugging his knee, partially covered with the white futon blanket. Iwaizumi reaches down and pulls his cellphone back, and he sees Oikawa stare at his naked collarbones before adverting his gaze elsewhere.

"I'm hungry, I'll raid your fridge and get something prepped?" Oikawa cheerfully jumps up, ankle braces snapping to join his feet. Iwaizumi frowns. "I think I saw you put some eggs into your cart, and it's been a long time since I've had omurice, so I think I'll make some of that. I miss the onions here, they're sweeter compared to the ones I've been eating in Europe lately."

"Oikawa."

The Avatar turns, "Yes, Iwaizumi?"

He swings his legs so it touches his hardwood panels, rising. Oikawa visibly tenses when he approaches. Iwaizumi wants answers, he wants to know why Oikawa came back _now_, why he hadn't gone home to his parents or even his sister, why he appeared out of nowhere, how he found Iwaizumi's workplace, so many whys and hows floating in his head within the past twenty-eight hours that is bottling up like a carbonated drink.

He opens his mouth and his bravery falters.

"...With miso," He rasps.

Oikawa beams like a sunflower swiveling and perking up, "Got it!"

He stares at the half-ajar door, throwing light into his bedroom and wondering when he became such a coward.

_Um_, Hanamaki's texts say as Iwaizumi is sitting on the toilet.

_So like. Three members of the White Lotus just went to Issei's_

_And they just left my place._

_I think your place is next. _

_Should I warn Chiyoru?_

Iwaizumi groans internally, listening to the sounds of Oikawa humming outside his bathroom. He finishes up as quickly as possible, washes his hands and flings open the bathroom door just in time to hear his door buzzer go off.

Iwaizumi collides with Oikawa in the hallway, shushes him with a fierce glare, and stuffs Oikawa inside his hall closet with a nonverbal look that says, _A peep out of you and your body will be found in a dumpster._

Oikawa stares wide eyed, and Iwaizumi shuts the partition.

"Coming!" He hollers, the buzzer going off again. His heart is hammering as he unlocks his door to come face to face with three White Lotus Members wearing black suits.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting?" One of them says, a twitch to his eye.

Iwaizumi looks down to see that he's wearing only a t-shirt and black briefs, he tilts his chin up, "I was cooking. On my day off."

"Sorry to bother you, Iwaizumi-san," The third one pipes up, partially hidden behind the two taller ones. Iwaizumi sees a familiar middle aged woman who sometimes hovers around Oikawa's house during their later teen years as a guard. "We're here on business. Have you been in touch recently with Avatar Tooru?"

Iwaizumi likes to think he's a pretty good actor, he's had practice killing every last fiber of emotions working in the hospital as he's usually the bringer of bad news. He blinks, "Isn't he in Australia?"

"That was several months ago," The woman laments, "He's currently in France, but we've lost track of him," She shifts her feet slightly, and Iwaizumi wills his heart to calm, keeping eye contact with her grey eyes as she lightly but firmly, places her heel on the ground.

"No, sorry."

She bows to him, "Apologies for interrupting you then. Good day."

He bows after them, watching them leave in a hurry. He feels his phone buzz continuously from where he's jammed it between his armpit and side, and locks his apartment door before breathing out a sigh of relief.

"Hanamaki," He greets, pulling the closet door open to reveal Oikawa floating on an air ball to avoid being sensed. "Sorry, they just left my place."

"_God, Hajime you scared me!_" Hanamaki wails, "_I thought I had to come down there myself and save you!_"

"I thought you were a nonbender," Oikawa speaks to his phone. Iwaizumi puts it on speaker and hands it off, shuffling over to his kitchen.

"_Glad you're still alive Oikawa,_" Goes Hanamaki's voice. "_Well I think I've done my Good-Civilian-Duty of the year and I'm going back to the lab. Send Hajime my love._"

"Bye loser!" Iwaizumi says loudly over the hum of kitchen fans, hoping that his voice is loud enough for his phone to pick up. "Now, Oikawa—"

He gives a yelp, swerving at the last second to avoid a still balanced Oikawa on an air ball holding his phone up with more airbending. The wok of fried rice is saved, though Hajime had bumped his hip into an open cabinet door so the bone is stinging smartly.

He frowns and packs some rice into a random bowl to mold, "Why are you still levitating?"

"Because Ame-san is a skilled earthbender and she could still be watching the floor at the emergency stair case," Oikawa laughs bitterly, "She's unfortunately not good enough to sense vibrations from conversations with her feet, so I'm thankful for that one mercy."

"It's almost as if you're an international mass murderer on the run."

Oikawa smiles thinly, and shoos him with less gusto out of the kitchen. Iwaizumi stands in his hallway with his cellphone and decides the next best thing he can do is to wear some shorts and air out his bedroom.

His phone thrills, displaying his hospital's number.

"Iwaizumi speaki—"

"_Iwaizumi-san,_" Akaashi's dry tone groans, "_Please tell me you haven't gone murdering the Avatar because there are around a dozen of his guards in the security room looking at yesterday's camera footage._"

His blood runs cold, "I—I..."

"_Fear not, I know someone and asked them to wipe the footage and replace them with ones that were stored from several weeks ago. No one would know the difference,_" Akaashi explains smoothly. It's only then that Iwaizumi realizes he's speaking very quickly in English, probably to avoid eavesdroppers from listening in, "_They're not introducing themselves as the White Lotus, but I know several of them because of my family. So, can I assume Oikawa-san is there with you?_" 

"Thanks, Akaashi, I really owe you one," He breathes, leaning against his bedroom door and sliding to the floor in relief. The cold panels of the floor grounds him to the present, " And yeah, he's with me right now."

"_Good_._ Be careful if you haven't been visited_."

"Would they.... What's the worse they can do if they suspect the Avatar is in this city?" Curiosity bubbled out of him. The Akaashis were a family loyal to the White Lotus, most of their members becoming one themselves. 

"._..Frankly, I don't know. It's been several years since I was kicked out,_" Akaashi's calm voice replies. "_I imagine they would do the bare minimum of watching over your apartment and the places and friends the Avatar would frequent. So for you, Iwaizumi-san, would mean that the bending gym, climbing wall, grocery story, and Koenji Park. Your jogging trails are off limits if you want to bring the Avatar with you._"

"I see."

"_My coffee break is up. Might I recommend letting Hanamaki-san and Matsukawa-san aware of this?_"

"Thanks, Akaashi."

"_No problem._"

His hand slides down his neck, and the bright blue light eventually fades, throwing his room into darkness once more. There's just enough light from the bottom of the door that it illuminates the pile of futon Oikawa had already tidied, folded into a small bundle with the singular pillow stacked on top. 

Iwaizumi's heart aches for the younger version of themselves who had never known about the bloodlines of Avatars and only worried about wrestling for the last popsicle. He sends a brief message to his old friends per Akaashi's instructions before sticking his hand in his closet and pulling out the first pair of jogging shorts he touches.

"Knock knock," Oikawa calls out from the other side of the door, "Food's ready!"

The omurice looked like a perfect replica of those plastic look-a-likes on store windows with shiny demi glace sauce, bright red cherry tomatoes adorning the sides and the egg folded on top. It made no sense. How was Oikawa, who only lived on milk breads and the joy that came with shattering the confidence of little setters that looked up to him, able to make something this?

"Did you order this?"

"NO!"

"Sounds fake but okay," Iwaizumi stirs the miso and takes a sip. Out of curiosity, he asks, "Are you still levitating?"

Oikawa rolls his eyes, "No. I sensed the entire building and one kilometer radius of this space and nothing came up. They're most likely out of the area or decided to pursue onto the person next on their hit list." He takes a hefty chunk out of egg, sauce and fried rice, "Mmm, Japanese produce really is good."

Iwaizumi makes quick work of the meal, and somewhere between sipping coffee and trying to juggle the cherry tomatoes with airbending, Oikawa had turned on the flatscreen, eyes sharp and listening to the early evening news.

"Gude, gudetama," He sings along as a commercial break airs, "Gude, gudetama. Wow, they haven't changed the jingle."

Iwaizumi looks around his apartment, glad that the blinds and curtains are still drawn shut. Oikawa could do ballet in here, blasting Swan Lake, and no one would realize he was hiding the Avatar.

"Oikawa," He says firmly, quietly. He stands.

Oikawa doesn't hear, enraptured in a news segment about some tennis player winning the US Open. At least this - the intensity Oikawa gives off, the way he blocks out everything else and throws his all into what he's paying attention to - is the same. One similarity within the sea of differences.

"Oikawa."

One step brings him closer. Another brings him even closer. How many times had he dreamt of walking up to Oikawa like this when he was eighteen and wondering why his text messages, emails and letters go unanswered? He spent countless hours wondering if Oikawa realized how small Miyagi was and chose the White Lotus over family, but now after listening to the little things that had slipped out, he probably wouldn't have been able to escape if he was the Avatar.

Quietly, "Tooru."

He's close enough to see the reflection of the TV on Oikawa's glasses, which turns completely white with a turn of his head.

"Why did you come back?"

His answer, for which Iwaizumi had been nervous to hear, was not what he expected.

The TV turns off, "It was my thirty-eighth birthday a month ago," Oikawa quietly whispers, looking down.

Iwaizumi couldn't stay standing with all the slugs wriggling in his stomach, so he walks over to the couch and looks expectantly at Oikawa. Was this a belated quarter life or an accelerated mid life crisis? He wants to prompt, but decides against it; Oikawa is looking somewhere at his shoulder, perhaps seeing spirits.

"It was only recently that I realized thirty-eight was a pretty big...year. Of realization. My youth: wasted on learning the elements. My late twenties: spent on trying to build a persona so people and other world leaders would still think I'm useful. And I spent my early thirties doing the exact same thing. Arguing, discussing, making deals on the behalf of other nations. I am the Avatar, everyone owns me, but no one ever thinks to let me have time for myself.

"I turned thirty-eight and I woke up tired, Iwa-chan," Iwaizumi's heart clenches at the name. "The day I decided to run away, I woke up to a cathedral on fire that morning. And I stayed in bed for several more minutes thinking what happened several mornings ago, and could not recall anything other than the White Lotus ushering me around here and there while my life flashed before me. 

"One minute I was a crying seven year old standing in a corn field, and the next I was the Avatar who hadn't come home for two decades," Oikawa laughs, "Who hadn't been allowed to take vacations to see his friends or family for fear that it would distract me! All those years, Iwa-chan! Those years stolen from me!"

Oikawa didn't shout, but Iwaizumi could hear the apartment ringing with Oikawa's pitch, anger and disappointment bouncing between the walls.

"You're angry, and you should be, it wasn't fair."

The Avatar still stands tall. From here, he can see the very first lesson little firebenders were given - the lesson of the breath - had stuck to him. Oikawa stands like a soldier, straight, proud, yet his chin dips with emotions, head weighted as he calmly breathes out.

"I escaped my security and fled onto the tarmac. I latched onto a private jet heading towards South Korea, and from there, I stayed on the aircraft before using my glider to ride the wind here," Oikawa raises his arms and does a pulling motion. The metal from his bracelets and ankle braces create a writhing metallic mass, and from that mass, Oikawa pulls his arms apart to form a glider, complete with retractable wings.

He gives the glider a quick whirl, where the metal separate and form back into two thin, nondescript bracelets, and the ankle braces snap back to where they belong.

"And...how did you find me?" He rasps, "I could have been anywhere."

"Privileges of having the White Lotus nearby," Oikawa looks slightly guilty, "I may have flirted with my female guard and got her so drunk she passed out. But not before I took her fingerprints."

At that, Iwaizumi gives a wheezy laugh, "Any more crimes you want to confess to?"

Oikawa seems to perk up slightly, joining him on the couch and staring at their reflections on the TV. Iwaizumi tosses him a cushion, to which Oikawa hugs to his chest.

"It's...weird. At first I didn't mind it because it took Korra several years of training to master all the elements, and she was trained since she was young. But after training was over I thought I could take a short break and come back here, but there was always something that came up. A conference we have to go to, an area that was just hit with natural disaster, meetings...."

Iwaizumi sits back and nods at the appropriate moments, listening to stories of Oikawa begging to send emails, or letters, just anything to let his friends and family know they're not being neglected. How letters _were _sent, but it seemed that none were received or delivered.

The clock on the wall reads 18:36, and by the time Oikawa has exhausted twenty years' worth of bottled up feelings, night has descended, the window pattering with raindrops. They're well into Honshu's monsoon season.

They talk into the night about him next. His biochemistry degree at Toudai, his medical degree, his car, his apartment, his mother's death. Oikawa was very upset when he found out about that, and apologizes that he wasn't there for her funeral. Iwaizumi, at this point in time, had stretched his legs towards Oikawa who was sitting on the opposite end, their ankles and calves rubbing. 

He brings a large blanket for them to share. He uses one hand as a source of light, the fire warming Oikawa's puffy eyes and tear-streaks after hearing what had happened to his mother. Her bad headaches worsened into a stroke, which turned into a fifteen month death sentence with glioblastoma multiforme.

"You don't need to cry so much about it," Iwaizumi leans forward to rub his head, "She didn't suffer much in the end. We pumped her with lots of morphine towards the end of her days."

Oikawa sniffs, "Sorry to have the ability to feel emotions."

"Now you're just being rude. Any idea on what you want to do now?"

Oikawa shrugs, metal bracelets glinting in the firelight. In another life, Iwaizumi thinks he would have leaned forward and hugged him, "I...could stay for a few more days?" He looks unsure.

"Oh, are you using your manners for once?"

"I'm the Avatar," Oikawa says snootily, most of the thickness gone from his voice, "Many people would be honoured to host me."

"I've seen you cry when you knocked over a bottle of paint when we were four, not to mention the mental list I have of all your embarrassing moments," Iwaizumi taps his head, "I don't see you as the Avatar."

A brief flicker of a smile crosses, "That's...really nice, actually. Being just known as 'Oikawa Tooru' and not 'Avatar Tooru.'" He stretches, and Iwaizumi could feel the muscles in his legs clench and unclench. "Do you ever sit down at your office or whatever and think about the state of the universe?"

Iwaizumi has a lot of moments like that when there's a rare moment of silence, "Like what?"

"Well for me, Avatars aren't needed in this day and age," Oikawa says nonchalantly, "It's a fact. The world has moved on from bickering with others. I'm there as a mediator most of the time, but I think the world would do fine without me. The councilmen can regulate their own arguments."

"What about...fighting crime and all?"

Oikawa gives him a level-headed stare, "Each nation and colonies have their own crime fighting forces. The last time I was brought to help hunt down criminals was a few years ago. It's a joke," He scoffs, "I accompany presidents and world leaders like I'm their body guard. "'_No one would dare to attack me if the Avatar is by my side_."'

"That is...quite a problem," He admits. Was that why his mother had always looked so forlorn in Oikawa's direction whenever he would come over when they were little? "But people still listen to you, right?"

"No. I'm not allowed to make any outlandish remarks when political shit hits the fan," Oikawa sighs, "I have to remain neutral to the world. What is the use of an Avatar when they're being controlled by the White Lotus?"

"Have you talked to your previous lives about this?"

At this, Oikawa gives Iwaizumi a very good eye roll, "Masaru-san told me to stop whining. Korra said that she often lost her temper at world meetings and was chastised often by Master Tenzin. Aang told me that when he was alive, he was in a lucky position where the Avatar held more power and people were still listening to him," Oikawa conjures a fire of his own, glasses reflecting the flame, "So I asked Korra what she would do in my shoes, and she said she didn't really have an answer."

"What about my grandfather?"

"Unhelpful, he said that the role of the Avatar is to keep world neutrality and to not butt into other Nation's businesses as much. He and Korra got into an argument about what the real role of the Avatar is in the modern world, and then Aang looked sad because they indirectly called him ancient."

Iwaizumi is grateful that he doesn't have to deal past lives visiting him when he sleeps and arguing with each other, "It sounds like a lively family reunion." 

"I guess," Oikawa says, dimming the light in his hand and studying it closely. His hair looks golden brown in the firelight, the harsh angles of his face softened by the warm glow. "Did you know? When I was little I made a wish that Iwa-chan would also be a bender like me, so I wouldn't be lonely when I went to summer camp."

"My grandfather was an Earthbender, what made you think that we were both going to end up firebending?"

Oikawa shrugs, "I had a dream when I was little. Don't remember much of it now, of course, but you were clearing bending fire in the middle of the ocean, underwater."

Iwaizumi stays silent as Oikawa extinguishes the fire, "Should we watch a random movie? I haven't watched a movie in ages!" 

"Yea, go pick something, I'm going to grab some beer."

"Woohoo~ My first movie in decades!" Oikawa says, pouncing on the TV remove as Iwaizumi disappears to the kitchen.

_"Hajime?"_

_Iwaizumi pauses Kirby and curiously stands up, turning the knob to his bedroom door. His mom peers down at him with a man at her shoulder._

_"Kaa-san?"_

_This man went next door to ask for Tooru-kun, but Chiyoru-san said that he was over and..." His mother's mouth trembled, but she still kept a smile plastered on her face. "Well, it would be rude to eavesdrop on a private conversation, right?"_

_He turns to look at Oikawa, who looks curious and also withdrawn, hands tight around the controller. Iwaizumi's mother herds him away from his bedroom, where the man closes the door for privacy, and he spends the next half-hour swinging his leg on the dining table chair, eating some mikans his mother had peeled._

_"Who's the man?" He asks, curious._

_She finishes peeling, the air heavy with the scent of citrus, before answering his question, "He's...a friend of your grandfather."_

_"Why is he here to see Tooru?" If a friend of his grandfather is here, shouldn't he be talking to his mom? The Oikawas just moved here several years ago, and their nearest family is all the way in Fukouka._

_His mother looks up, and he turns to see the man bow in their direction, "Thank you for inviting me in, I'll be leaving now."_

_Iwaizumi runs up to him and glares, "Why are you talking to Tooru?"_

_The man looks down, pulling down a hat to hide his eyes. His suit smells of the earth and wind, "To announce the next reincarnation of the Avatar."_

_"I thought that's not suppose to happen until they're of age!" Iwaizumi's mother sharply says in a furious voice. He turns to his mother, wondering when the even-tempered woman turned so cold. The White Lotus member stares at her, unfazed, and sneers._

_"It was a law passed by the previous Avatar," He dips his head and bows a little in her direction, "I'll be off then, pardon my intrusion."_

_"—And onto other news. The Avatar is still currently not attending any of the Peace Conferences in Paris. World leaders are left baffled as he continues to ignore meetings and requests to meet up. Sato-san, this couldn't be the White Lotus covering up something, could it?"_

_"No, I don't think so. The White Lotus has deny reports of illnesses or injuries thus far. While the Avatar had doused the fire burning down Notre Dame, the citizens are talking, and they're angry that he hasn't done anything more. Rallies held around France and the surrounding Water colonies are wondering if his presence at these world meetings are even useful."_

_"Thank you for the update on these rallies, Sato-san. And next we have Yamaguchi-san with the news of the JR Line delay—"_

"Okay," Matsukawa admits as he pulls out the earbud from his right side, handing it back to Iwaizumi. They're in the middle of a crowded hallway, leaning against a column. Iwaizumi has taken off his white coat and tucked his ID into his breast pocket, blending in as much as he can amongst the other hospital staff on break in the lobby. "So now things are getting political awkward. Is he aware of this?"

Iwaizumi shrugs, glancing here and there and using the convex mirrors posted around the corners of hallways to see if there are any White Lotus members hovering nearby just in case. He spotted one sitting outside a Lawson's a block away from his apartment when he drove to the hospital this morning. "No, but he could find this out easily if he clicks on the news channel."

"Still sleeping?"

He nods, sipping on too-burnt coffee and finishing a yakisoba bun in two hungry bites, "When I woke up he was meditating on the futon, so I don't think he slept. He might be crashing right now from tiredness."

Matsukawa takes a sip from his water bottle, "You're off tomorrow right? I have a feeling he might go crazy cooped up in your apartment."

"Yea, I've rearranged my schedule with some of the other surgeons," Iwaizumi shrugs, "I do have some leftover vacation days I need to take anyway, so I've extended my vacation weeks."

"He wants to lie low for now?"

Iwaizumi nods, "He's going to tell his sister tonight, and hopefully she can drop it tomorrow or something."

"Ah," Matsukawa raises his eyebrows, "That's right. Chiyoru-san is in Kichijoji. What...was she doing again?"

He frowns, sipping on the last dregs of terrible coffee, "She mentioned coffee and elementary schools briefly when I bumped into her on the train. I don't quite remember."

"Is this about Oikawa-san's legendary sister?" A new voice slides in.

Iwaizumi jumps to see Akaashi tucking his ID into the pocket of his mint green scrub pants. He pulls out a banana from the sleeveless, black fleece vest that has "Orthopedics" stitched in white on the back and finishes it in two bites before tossing the peel behind him, where it lands into a composting bin perfectly. A child sitting nearby stares at him with awe.

"Yea, I asked and he said that he's okay with us contacting her."

"He doesn't carry a cellphone?" Akaashi pulls out three onigiris and starts working on the first one, "I guess the White Lotus deem such objects as 'distractions.'"

Matsukawa lowers his voice, "Makki told me about the White Lotus storming in here. Is it because Iwaizumi works here?"

Akaashi nods, "Iwaizumi-san works here, you and Hanamaki-san also work here, and I'm here," The junior surgeon scowls, "I've only met Oikawa-san several times back in high school and they questioned me because of my family ties."

"Sorry to hear that."

Akaashi shrugs, looking annoyed, "Can't do anything about it. Well, Iwaizumi-san, I was going to ask what your next move would—" 

Suddenly, Iwaizumi hears a sharp chime coming from above, "CODE ORANGE," A cool woman's voice blares overhead as patients and staff alike jump at the sudden announcement.

"CODE ORANGE. WOULD ALL STAFF PLEASE REPORT TO THEIR SECTION LEADER. CODE ORANGE, CODE ORANGE. WOULD ALL STAFF—"

Matsukawa sprints away, following several people towards the emergency doors next to the public elevators. Iwaizumi and Akaashi run towards the opposite direction, climbing the stairs with several dozens of other people, pagers going off in the cramped fire exit.

When they emerge onto the orthopedic ward, he sees several nurses pacing around anxiously waiting for news. Iwaizumi sees their section leader count heads, "Iwaizumi and Akaashi! There you are! Alright, there has been an emergency event and it's triggering a city-wide Code Orange. Hiiro, Toranomon, Sanno, AMM, Mita and the others in central Tokyo are also involved."

"What happened?" Akaashi asks, crossing his arms, "I didn't feel an earthquake."

Their section leader pulls some papers from a clipboard, "This was just faxed in. There's been protests and rallies in Shibuya. People got rowdy and one thing led to another, and then someone released tear gas," Iwaizumi turns his head to the side where Akaashi is looking at him, eyes wide, "Of course, with chaos descending, some criminals took advantage of that fact and started looting, which is unrelated to us. We're on standby for any orthopedic related surgery, but I don't think we will need all hands on deck, not unless the ER is overwhelmed. If that occurs, I will ask for volunteers."

"This...doesn't have anything to do with the rallies regarding the Avatar's disappearance in France does it?" Iwaizumi finds his voice.

Several doctors and nurses turn to him, "Iwaizumi-kun, you haven't heard?" One of the youngest nurses asks, clutching the hems of her shirt. "Avatar Tooru's disappearance has escalated overnight. People are angry."

"I thought it was just in France and some of the Water colonies," Iwaizumi presses, "Alaska, Vancouver Island, Polynesia...."

"It got bigger," She pulls out her phone as their section leader orders them to go back to whatever they were doing, but make sure their pagers are on, "Someone on the internet accused the Fire Nations of hiding him, and...since we're a nation that primarily bends fire...accusations pointed to us rather than the other colonies and people were demanding that the government should release information about...a-about...."

"Whether we're hiding the Avatar or not," Iwaizumi says her unfinished sentences, catching his livid expression on the reflection of a metal thermos, "He was born here, of course we would get accused."

Iwaizumi presses his palms on his door and hears the lock mechanism whir, the door turning hot and cold in a matter of seconds as it reads his heat signature. He chucks his shoes off and pads to the living area where Oikawa turns to him, TV muted with subtitles on. 

His eyes are bloodshot.

"You were watching the news the entire day?" Iwaizumi drops his messenger bag on the designated chair where he has half folded piles of sheets and large towels sitting around. "Did you even eat?"

"Some," Oikawa says roughly, looking down, "By the way, don't act like nothing happened. We both knew that there was a code orange called throughout the city due to the protests and 'rallies' held in Shibuya. You don't have saline by any chance do you?"

"Why do you need saline?" Iwaizumi turns to him sharply, stalking forward as Oikawa tilts his head up and points to his right eye.

"For some reason, this one is always drier than the other."

Iwaizumi remembers that eye all too well, going to the bathroom to check the expiry date on a small saline bottle he keeps for cleaning wounds, of Oikawa when he was in high school, obsessed with volleyball to the point of watching every video of their opponents, "No wonder you have glasses. You don't rest your eyes enough when staring at screens."

Oikawa shrugs, looking up and blinking furiously as several drops of liquid misses and hits the area around his eyes. It eventually hits his eyeball, and the Avatar shuts his eyes, rolling them behind his eyelids to distribute the moisture.

"I've made dinner," Oikawa says, eyes still closed. He leans forward to pat the coffee table, and places the saline bottle there. "Well, it's technically in the fridge from lunch, but I made stew. The rice should still be warm."

Iwaizumi dumps rice into a random salad bowl and douses it with cold stew, nuking it in the microwave. As he watches the counter go down, he's thinking of ways to comfort Oikawa - if he needs to be comforted in the first place. Most people would be upset right? But then again, Oikawa is used to have insults thrown at his face in the media and having people protests about what he does.

"I don't know what's normal or not normal anymore," He mumbles to himself, travelling to the couch and kicking Oikawa's legs off so he can sit. "Do riots happen often? You don't look too surprised."

"When I was twenty-five—" Iwaizumi immediately thinks what he was doing at twenty-five, and finds that he couldn't remember much from the year of grueling exams, "—I had to miss several conferences in a row because there were protesters and blockades outside the rental home the White Lotus and I were in. Then of course, whenever natural disaster strikes and I fail to appease the public, the news would write _all _about that, and I'd get threats online. '_Avatar Masaru was a much better man than you, he wouldn't have let those people perish_!'"

Iwaizumi doesn't know much about his grandfather, but his mother would avoid talking about him when she was still alive, and he's seen enough footage of Avatar Masaru to know that he's had a _absolutely-no-bullshit _attitude. It resulted in a stubborn personality, but he did his job. Too well, from what his mother had said to him, _Otou-san was never home, I've only seen him three times in my entire life_.

Oikawa plays with his bracelet, absently bending the metal into outlines of dinosaurs, butterflies, stars, and hearts, "He was a good Avatar."

"He had no work-life balance," Iwaizumi offers. "Why are you comparing yourself to past Avatars?"

"Korra prevented an evil Avatar spirit from raging chaos, Aang escaped the Air Nomad genocide and prevented the then Fire Lord from descending into tyranny. Masaru singled-handedly protected an entire country from the devastating effects of a tsunami all by himself and put a stop to two large wars. _I_ can barely step outside without people arguing with my decisions that weren't even mine in the first place."

"What?"

Oikawa nods, "I mean, I have a voice with the White Lotus, but they all act like advisers and _love _to talk on top of me about how _naive _I am about things, and how Masaru would have chosen a different path. Of course," Oikawa starts ranting, passionately now bending the metal into spiky projections as Iwaizumi clutches his cold rice and stew slightly nervously, "When it came to things like natural disasters I go where I'm needed for rebuilding and healing. But when it comes to politics I apparently don't have _enough knowledge of how things work even though I have a master's in International Affairs and two diplomas in Political Science and Religious Studies!_"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing.

"Thank you for your vote of confidence," Oikawa sourly says.

"You finally snapped," Iwaizumi laughs, "No, Oikawa, I was waiting for this. You...when you came, you looked like you just needed a long vacation or a lengthy rant session. I'm glad that you could get this off your chest," He takes another mouthful of the stew, which was seasoned reasonably well, albeit not salty enough for his taste, "You're right. It's bullshit how they keep treating you like a kid when you're clearly qualified to make decisions on the international scale. I'd probably have stabbed them with my scalpel at this point." He looks up and finds Oikawa staring at him, a half-smile on his face.

Conscious, he stops chewing and squirrels his food into one cheek so he can talk properly, "What? Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're planning how to take me down," Iwaizumi half jokes. He feels like a bug under a microscope. Whatever training Oikawa had gone through during his years with the White Lotus has Iwaizumi feel like he's sometimes in court as an expert witness.

Oikawa smiles and looks around his apartment, at the eggshell white walls, the simple furniture and the little knick knacks around that have a fair amount of dust on them, "I've always wondered, in the back of my mind, how Iwa-chan would grow up to be. I'd forgotten to tell you how well you looked when I met you again. You look good, even with the slight wrinkles."

"You have them too."

Oikawa touches his forehead, eyes half-closed. Iwaizumi could see several thin, darker patches of skin around his head and up and down his arms. Did Oikawa not heal them in time with waterbending before they scarred?

"These," A pale finger points to one, like Oikawa was reading his mind, "Were from the early days of my training. First, I mastered air. Water was next, but due to it being the natural opposite of fire, I struggled. My water training took the longest, and Master Kya - the second - nearly dumped me into the ocean several times. Earth was the last. I accomplished it in under two years."

Iwaizumi was impressed, "Did you go to the Metal Clan and learn that in under two years as well?"

Oikawa tosses his head to the side, hair floofing up and down, "Of course, I am a genius! I even learned how to do some of the subspecialties of each element!"

"Your ego is as large as your forehead."

"It's not as large as your attitude, Iwa-chan, trust me."

Iwaizumi slams his bowl on the nearest flat surface and wrangles Oikawa into a headlock, shoving his fingers into his hair and mussing it up like he's washing rice. The screams of horror is worth the extremely cold hands Oikawa tries to shove under his shirt. He gets a pillow smooshed to his face as Oikawa slips away like a fish, and he pulls it off in a roar of mock rage.

"One moment," Oikawa starts, lying on his back with his hands held in front of him in mock surrender, bracelets glinting, "We were five years old and chasing bugs, and the next thing I know you ran off and turned into someone I didn't know. I've known you longer as a stranger than I've known you as a friend."

Iwaizumi's eyes starts burning, and he flicks Oikawa's forehead for making him able to shift so quickly from playful to serious, "It can't be helped. You're the Avatar...and the Avatar has duties."

Oikawa looks up at him, voice low, "Did you ever think what _we _would be like if I wasn't the Avatar?"

He holds his breath.

Oikawa continues to look at him, still on his back, hands now against his chest.

"Maybe..." He wets his lips, heart rate picking up. He has Oikawa pinned under him, and he feels his cheeks heat up, "...Professional volleyball players? You always loved volleyball."

"You were the one who introduced me to it, I thought you would've gone pro."

"I only wanted to spike from you," He admits quietly, "Playing it is addicting, but I'd rather get a set from you than someone else."

Oikawa's eyes starts to water heavily. Iwaizumi points them out, "No cheating, waterbender."

"I'm the Avatar," Oikawa laughs, the tears remaining in his eyes by sheer force. He wiggles and Iwaizumi climbs off, "You know what part of being the Avatar I hate most? Selflessness. I'm here today so the world can share me." 

Oikawa releases a slow, deep sigh. It had less of a tired tone but more of that he was trying to do some deep-breathing exercises, "You've heard it a thousand times by now. I belong to the world, and I cannot have earthly attachments. I go wherever they need me...which begs the question, where do I go if they don't need me?" The last part ended in a thoughtful hum.

The answer is immediate to Iwaizumi, "You go wherever you want. The moment you finally have time for yourself is the best time to explore. You've never traveled somewhere alone, have you?"

He hears the sound of hair rustling against the couch; Oikawa must be shaking his head.

He continues, "You find out a lot about yourself when you travel alone. It's...like a life-changing field trip you go on by yourself. You could benefit from that right now considering how overworked you've been your entire life," Iwaizumi looks down at his hands, "I guess I should apologize on his behalf for changing the rules. Avatars aren't suppose to know until they're of age, but my grandfather changed everything."

Oikawa turns and digs his nose into the fabric of Iwaizumi's pants, "I spoke to my past lives yesterday about the riots. Masaru was the only one who called me an idiot and told me to quit wasting time. Charming man, your grandfather. 'If they don't need you then you're not doing a good job!'"

"What a terrible attitude," Iwaizumi speaks to his television.

"Like grandfather like grandson."

"You take that back right now."

Oikawa laughs, "...Would you wait for me?" Gone was the light-hearted teasing tone.

He blinks.

"What exactly am I waiting for?"

The Avatar doesn't hesitate, "Would you wait for me to return home?"

Then, Iwaizumi sees Oikawa's eyes become sharper and sharper in focus, and their lips meet, Oikawa's rough hands cupping his jaw. The kiss lingers, and Iwaizumi instinctively kisses back with the same pressure he would with past relationships while his eyes sees Oikawa's brown hair and eyebrows out-of-focus.

In the seconds that they were connected, Iwaizumi thinks of nothing. Rather, he feels. He feels the heat on his jaw, on his cheeks, blooming across his neck and back. He feels the burn of water in his throat, the absence of water in his lungs - they're five and dumb. He feels the back of his neck burn even more, warmer and hotter than a sunburn he got when they were thirteen and ran around on the beach foolishly without reapplying sunscreen, their skins peeling off, and perhaps that was when things changed, the tipping point of Oikawa Tooru, the best friend turning into Oikawa Tooru, future Avatar.

Then he feels remorse, wondering how long this will last, how long this Oikawa will stay before leaving again. Maybe they will be well into their seventies the next time Oikawa visits. 

_I've known you longer as a stranger than I do as a friend._

They separate, and Iwaizumi feels a cool nose press against his, and he slits open his eyes to see Oikawa's pores.

"Will you wait?" Oikawa croaks, eyes shut.

Maybe. Maybe if he wasn't _this _Iwaizumi and Oikawa wasn't _that _Oikawa, he would.

"I have my own life to live, just like you do," He whispers, rubbing Oikawa's hair.

"Then what was that, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa sounds angry, "That didn't seem like a 'no.'"

"That was a goodbye to my past," Iwaizumi stands and brings his empty bowl with him, "I had the fattest thing for you when we were in high school."

Oikawa follows him, footsteps becoming lighter and lighter as Iwaizumi turns at his kitchen to watch for his reaction. His eyes are wide, brows slightly furrowed as if Iwaizumi had just told him the next Avatar after him would be a waterbender, "_That's not true._"

"I thought they were _my _feelings, so how would you know what's true and untrue if you're not me?" He pours two drops of dish soap into the bowl and starts scrubbing. His love for Oikawa was so long ago, it feels comfortable to talk about it, like admitting to his mother how he used to snuck cookies when she wasn't looking. Harmless, funny, comfortable.

"Does Makki and Mattsun know?"

Iwaizumi dries the bowl and spoon, shrugging, "They're not idiots. They put together A and B together when we were in first year when you wouldn't answer my letters, calls or emails."

"_Then how come I never knew?!_" Oikawa yells, sparks bursting from his mouth. They fall onto the hardwood and Iwaizumi automatically extinguishes them before they can use his apartment as fuel. He opens his mouth to yell at Oikawa for _breathing fire in a half wooden building._

"_Hey!—_"

Oikawa snorts out fire, smoke coming out of his mouth and curling around his face like a warm breath in a cold winter morning. Iwaizumi watches him as he breathes in and out haggardly; he's not stupid, there was really no reason for Oikawa to be so suddenly upset unless the reason is because....

"You liked me."

"Present tense," Oikawa spits, "_Like_. I _like _you, Hajime. I've probably loved you before I even knew my fate," He rubs his wrist, where the metal bracelets clink, "And now you turn me away."

Now that wasn't fair, and he steps forward with still wet and soapy hands, frowning, "Oikawa, look—"

Oikawa spins away from his touch and like a ghost, seems to appear at the door, pulling his shoes, baseball cap and dark blue raincoat on. 

Iwaizumi raises his voice, suddenly angry as he stalks forward, feet pounding the floor. 

"_Are you fucking kidding me?_ The White Lotus is out there! The Dai Li might even be hunting you down! Don't throw a tantrum like you're nineteen, Oikawa! You have to stay here—"

"You're not my mom!" Oikawa hisses, unlocking the front door without touching it and gliding out. 

The door slams into Iwaizumi's face, and he curses and jiggles the handle and calls Oikawa every name under the sun. "Shittykawa! Open this door right now! Oikawa! _OIKAWA!_" 

He superheats the lock in hopes to destroy the mechanism so Oikawa's mental hold on it loosens, but the metal plate separating them remains solid.

Iwaizumi lets out a yell of fury and kicks his door, toe throbbing.


	2. The White Lotus and the Pariah

He turns the corner and nearly runs into his sister. 

It's definitely not Kyoshi who's looking out for him from the Spirit World- she could have made him bump into any other person on Earth, _anyone _but his sister. 

Nevertheless, Oikawa catches her steady around her upper arms as her work bag and the edge of a cardboard box in a plastic bag swing around to hit him. His sister automatically starts apologizing.

"I'm so sorry!" She abruptly jerks her arms out of his grasp, bowing, bangs hanging forward. She raises her head and— 

"..._Tooru?_" Chiyoru gapes at him, a weak croak coming out before he inwardly feels that the door he's holding back is _melting _rapidly.

"Nee-chan, sorry," He apologizes as he bodily tucks her into his side like an American football and hustles the both of them to the emergency exit, the door slamming his elbow when it swings shut. The pain registers for a bit, but he leaps down a set of stairs, softening his landing automatically before putting her back down on her feet and wiping his sweaty palms discreetly. 

Like a stone tossed into a still pond with clouds reflecting above it, her face swims with all sorts of expression before settling into the familiar annoyance of an older sibling. A beat after, his chest loosens and he breathes.

"Did you piss off Hajime-kun again?"

He sighs (in relief or acceptance, he's not sure).

"Same shit, different day," He hears her mumble. She tucks a lock of brown hair behind her ear and adjusts one of the falling straps of her bag, "Any idea how long we'll stay here before he cools off? I don't hear him coming after your sorry ass."

Oikawa stays silent, not sure on how to break the news that will inevitably cause his sister to shoot out flamethrowers from her hands, especially because _he knows_ that _she knows_ that he's an idiot. When she steps forward, one foot on the staircases to the floor above, he blurts it out.

"That's because I'm still preventing him from coming out of his apartment by forcing his metal door to stay locked."

A beat passes.

She shuts her eyes, takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly. He feels like he's three all over again, having just spilled juice all over her painting by accident. He fiddles with the hem of his borrowed shirt, a simple black long sleeve with no logo. It's made out of a slippery material that retains heat well. The one he arrived in Japan in is somewhere mingling within Iwaizumi's hamper, acknowledging the other fabrics. 

She has one hand on her hip as her eyes - the same shade of light brown as his - pierce his soul, "I will tell him you're with me," Her voice leaves no room for arguing, "And then we're going to leave before the Dai Li shoots us."

Oikawa mutely nods; there's no reason to even attempt to speak with her when she's in that mood.

His sister's thumbs are a blur over her phone, and then their footsteps are echoing in the tiny fire exit as they continue to go down, down, down until he sees a plaque that says 2B. Here, he releases his mental hold on the locking mechanism of Iwaizumi's front door and gets into his sister's car, putting on the flu mask she tosses at him and shoving the brim of his baseball cap even further towards his chin.

"Pretend to sleep," Comes her command, and he follows them, slightly reclining the chair and shutting his eyes. 

She hums along to her radio, and he keeps one ear on it, wondering if she's listening to the Top 40 Hits or if this is a specialty station that only plays songs that were popular two decades ago when he vanished. Being a complete stranger to Tokyo, he soon loses his mental location with the turns his sister makes, the grey light seen through his eyelids eclipsed whenever he passes through tunnels and thick canopies of trees.

He's shaken awake, sitting in front of a modest looking house surrounded by larger ones nearby. Chiyoru grabs her things and ditches him in a true older sibling fashion. 

He wipes the drool away and unlocks the car door.

She shuffles around him in the small genkan, moving her shoes to the side where he sees other ones of the same size, rummaging in the nearby hall closet for guest slippers that gets tossed towards him.

He sniffs the air and smells a faint scent of wood and incense smoke, taking off his runners and stepping up to the hallway. The house is oddly quiet for this time of the day, "Where's Takeru?"

She heads towards the end of the hallway, flicking some lights on. He sees many closed doors and a living room, "He's all moved out. Already has a son on the way."

His first reaction is shock, because surely he's not _that _old, certainly not old enough to have a nephew who's _already married_.

_You missed the wedding_, he hears between her sentences.

"Oh," He turns his head to look at the many frames hanging on the wall. So that's the girl Takeru married. "I...I only heard of it months later. I'm sorry."

His sister doesn't respond nor give any indications that she heard what he said.

A frame nearby catches his eye. It's a recent picture of his sister with her friends during a hanami. He peers down and sees a picture of his parents next, visiting her.

He greedily consumes her memories, walking further down the hall in a trance-like state, seeing foreign countries he's visited as his sister poses in museums and landmarks all without him, vacations and trips to snowy cities with a grown up Takeru before the people in pictures travel backwards in time.

His own graduation, him with his arms around Iwaizumi's shoulder as Makki and Mattsun strike poses behind them. Takeru is blurry in this one, chasing after some classmate's dog as the memory transports him immediately to that day. He was trying to hold back tears.

More pictures of his sister with her friends, awkward seven year-old Takeru surrounded by ladies in a tea party celebrating someone's engagement; he and Iwaizumi standing side by side before the Interhigh match that would decide Seijoh's fate; Takeru wading into a deep blue pool with a floatie; Takeru learning to walk and crawl; a red Iwaizumi and of himself with a gap-toothed smile; Takeru and his sister moments after birth taken by a helpful nurse.

He stares at his younger self, arms around sunburnt Iwaizumi, suddenly fond.

"I didn't know you could still smile."

His sister holds out a mug, tea still steaming upwards. He accepts the floral blend and follows her when she beckons him to the living room, "I made cake."

The wooden fragrance he had smelled from the front of the house became apparent when he walked into the living room and found one wall dedicated to a series of little storage cubbies, each of them labelled with different types of teas and their specific temperatures for brewing. The other walls were covered in pictures of beaches and Takeru.

They sit too primly at the table, Oikawa using his best table manners and cutting the piece of cake like he's sitting down on a Presidential dinner and rubbing elbows with politicians. His sister's face is the calm seas before a storm, mouth disappearing behind her cup as she replenishes his cup at the same rate he's flinging the liquid back due to his dry throat.

"Why did you come back, Tooru?"

It's not like he hadn't expect the question. What caught him off guard was the bitterness, but then he reminds himself that he deserved it for waiting for twenty years before acting.

He asks, forcing the words to dislodge from his throat, "Did you keep up with my adventures?"

"...I did from time to time. I tried so hard at first," She looks away from him and onto the other side of the room where an upright piano is covered in dust. "Hajime-kun and I started getting our letters returned and we got the message loud and clear. It was surprising to hear out of the blue that my brother came back to Japan."

He doesn't say anything. He has half the cake left, but like most days in the recent blur of memories he can remember, his appetite vanishes like a leaf turning in the wind.

"I'm not mad at you," His sister finally speaks, "I mean, I was at first," She admitted, linking her fingers together, "I thought how ungrateful you were acting, running off and traveling the world being the Avatar without ever contacting us. Okaa-san cried for years after that, but eventually we thought you got tired of normalcy and we didn't bother anymore."

He flinches at the image of his mother crying, imagining her bent over the dining table, all her letters returned. 

He licks his dry lips, feeling every crevice of broken skin.

"In the beginning," He rasps, "I tried asking them for a week to go home. A weekend. A short stop in the airport. Anything." He squeezes his hands together, it was still difficult to say it out loud, "They kept making excuses. If I did well in my firebending exam, I can go, but next thing you know, I was on my way to meet my airbending master because he had a specific schedule and if I missed this one chance, my entire training would be held back for several years.

"Then in between those, I was pulled in and out of training for international events. Seminars, lectures, visits, meetings, conferences, trade deals to oversee...." 

He doesn't know what expression he's making, but his chest feels heavy, and his cheeks are wet, "I turned twenty-one and no one wished me a happy birthday. Not Makki or Mattsun, not Iwa-chan, not even my family," He thumbs the four metal piercings on each side of his ear, a birthday gift to himself as he did the first set in one of the bedrooms of his waterbending master's house, and the other three professionally done by someone who knew what they were doing when his master found him with needles between his cartilage.

His sister goes around the table to hand cup her hands around his head, the fibers of her sweater scratching his cheeks.

"You're here now."

He turns and shuts his eyes tightly, feeling like he's nothing more than a speck of dirt. He chokes down the sob in his throat, feeling his sister's arm constrict around him tighter.

When he wakes up, it's to faded movie and Olympic posters in Takeru's empty bedroom, where Chiyoru had set him up after feeding him more tea and a simple dinner of rice, fish and miso last night. There's a poster of the Tokyo 2020 mascots pinned on the ceiling with the type of blue adhesive that tends to give up easily, and to the opposite wall, Oikawa spies several school certificates and a collection of Takeru's photos from school pinned above his desk. He sits up slowly, his head suspiciously foggy and turns his head to the curtained window; it's raining.

He waves his hands and all his metal jewelry join him in their appropriate places, snapping softly in place. He rubs his ankles before going downstairs, wishing he had socks that come up to his shins at least to protect against the cold. Even with his inner flame and all, wearing metal on your extremities for nearly all of his waking hours makes him a pretty cold for a firebender.

His sister is watching the news with an unhappy expression, kitchen towel on one hand as the other hand holds the remote.

"Tooru!"

BREAKING NEWS: AVATAR DECLARED MISSING

"...I didn't know you were awake," Chiyoru lamely says, trying to cover her TV by plastering herself over it. He doesn't see anything except for the bold subtitles running below the screen, repeating the news over and over again. The White Lotus have given up, haven't they? He's now declared missing.

"Turn the volume up," He orders, "I need to know what they're saying about me."

She sighs, and goes for the remote.

"—_last known location was Charles de Gaulle Airport, an hour away from the last time the world saw Avatar Tooru in action when he doused the fire that broke out at Notre Dame Cathedral. The White Lotus has combed every street of Paris and confirmed that the Avatar is not in the surrounding cities._"

"_Sato-san, could the Avatar had gone to the airport beforehand and caught a flight somewhere else? Several theories are floating online about his whereabouts and netizens have closed in on his hometown Miyagi as one of the choices he would likely return to._"

"_He certainly could_," He watches as the anchorwoman nods, "_Authorities are now alerting various airports around the world for the Avatar. The White Lotus asks if you do see him to contact them first. And now with the traffic, Takagi-san, back to you._"

His sister lowers the TV volume back down to nearly nothing and turns to him. Her expression is reminiscent of the families who attended the funeral of his waterbending master who was Master Katara's great-great-grandchild.

"What are you going to do?"

He shrugs, mind already going through a hundred scenarios. If there was something he could thank the White Lotus for, it's how they drilled the slightest actions may sprout millions of consequences.

He has no phone, the White Lotus has made him seem like a serial murderer by asking the public to call them first if they spot him - his face might as well have the words "10 million yen dead or alive" tattooed across his forehead, and he has no money save for a few coins from the pocket of his joggers from when he'd asked Iwaizumi for his Lawson's raid. And to be fair, that wasn't even his money in the first place. To hide in this city is easy, but this is his first time coming here and he doesn't even know which way to go to the nearest train station let alone what it's even called.

His options at the moment are very limited.

The doorbell chimes, the soothing bell pooling fear into he and his sister as they share looks. He holds up one finger to his lips and lightly taps his heel to the floorboards - he's perfected this technique, even getting yelled at by the Metal Clan when they mocked him for being so light and dainty on his toes.

"One person, alone, one car, everyone else is still in their houses," He tells her.

She gazes at her closed windows, wringing her hands repeatedly on the kitchen towel. The skin covering her knuckles is white, "It's raining, after all. I think it's safe, they still think you're at large," She goes down the hall. He follows her quietly, hiding himself around the corner with fire daggers licking his forearms as she unlocks the door.

"Oh! A-Akaashi, come in."

"Akaashi?" He repeats, spinning around the corner to come face to face with a wet looking man holding a basket of fruits in one hand, bowing. The name rings a familiar bell in his head for some reason, though the face is a stranger to him- heavy, lidded eyes like Mattsun, a slim, slouchy built, pale skin and striking balance between his eyebrows and mouth that could only be described with the word _graceful _and _handsome _rolled together like a temaki. Oikawa isn't used to be caught off guard simply by a face, but there's a first for everything.

"Good morning Oikawa-sans. We have to move now and talk later. Oikawa-san, please come with me to the car," Akaashi beckons a long pale finger towards his car outside, and hands the fruit basket to Chiyoru, "Oikawa-san, please follow us to my apartment. Quick, the White Lotus will soon move."

His sister, immune to Akaashi's charm, flings open the hall closet door and tosses his raincoat at his face. She tugs the strings holding her apron together and makes a waving motion with her arms in the general direction of the kitchen, placing the basket down in the genkan as water droplets fall from the plastic to the wooden floors, "You have everything right?"

Oikawa nods, fighting his way into his jacket in the crammed hallway as her elbows jostles into his ribs.

Akaashi links arms with Oikawa the moment he has his shoes on and drags him to his car, where Oikawa is tossed inside before Akaashi buckles himself in and backs out, narrowly missing the line of plastic bottles filled with water in front of the neighbor's row of potted plants. The engine of the car purrs louder, and Oikawa's stomach starts twisting.

The only words Akaashi tells him is to hold on, and then they're taking the one lane roads of Chiyoru's neighbourhood like a professional racer, Oikawa bracing himself for the inevitable crash from the corners Akaashi takes. Once they hit the main road, Oikawa starts muttering prayers under his breath to Aang and Kyoshi.

"I don't believe we've been formally introduced," Akaashi says out of the blue, like they're not going _fifty above the speed limit in the rain_, "I'm a year below you, Oikawa-senpai."

_Oikawa-senpai_, a small part of his brain echoes. How many years has it been since he heard that honorific?

"Oikawa is fine," He brushes the formalities off, worried for his life, "Aren't we going a little fast?"

Akaashi's eyes darts to his speedometer and the car significantly decelerates. As thanks, Oikawa says, "You look familiar."

"I was the starting setter two years in a row for Fukurodani, and I'm the junior orthopedic surgeon. We met briefly when you found Iwaizumi-san."

"So you're Iwa-chan's kouhai, are you close to him, Idol-chan?"

Akaashi doesn't falter in the wake of his new nickname, "I occasionally go out for drinks with Hanamaki-senpai and Matsukawa-senpai; he was the one who told me about you going missing and I immediately acted."

"Why did he ask you?"

"My family had served the White Lotus for generations, but I was thrown out for not wanting to stay in the family business."

"So you're familiar with their patterns."

"The White Lotus in the homeland were always suppose to have one guard watching over the Avatar's families for their safety," Akaashi says, speeding as he changes lanes, "I'm not sure why, but the ones here hadn't been taking their jobs seriously, though probably it's because you haven't been home for quite some time and they were caught off guard when they released that statement this morning. Your sister was left alone up until four in the morning before anther unit took over."

Oikawa gives himself a whiplash for spinning around quickly, "_Until four in the morning?! _Where are they now?"

"Dealt with," Comes the ominous reply. They pass Ginza and the heart of Tokyo's financial and government district and Oikawa stares in terror as they slow down, traffic coming to a complete standstill as droves of people fill the sidewalks. 

"It got worse," He whispers, muffled from the jacket zipped up to his chin as Akaashi stops before a police officer trying to redirect traffic against the crowd of people gathered around Tokyo Station. There are so many people that Oikawa can roll down the windows, extend his arm a little past the glass and touch someone's elbow. "I saw the news this morning."

"Things changed," Akaashi says, slowly inching forward. Unlike his patience, his car seems to have other ideas, the engine thrumming quite loudly in the interior of the car, "There was a large revolt in Iwaizumi Masaru's time too, when he and the then Fire Lord and his ministers got into an argument."

"That was about the_ Modification of the First Goal of the White Lotus_." Oikawa answers immediately, like plucking a needle from a haystack. 

Akaashi presses the gas pedal as the car shoots forward past the crowd, driving away from Tokyo Station, "Yes," He says quietly, "You'd know your own history, of course."

Ten minutes later, he sees familiar roads and the dread in his stomach turns into apprehension, "Are you taking me back to Iwa-chans?"

The car answers for him as Akaashi ignores the left turn into Iwaizumi's street, but turns at the next intersection where they go down into the parking lot of a very familiar looking building with a large letter B on the outside, "We're building neighbors."

Once the grate of the garage goes down, Akaashi slips out of his car for a few seconds, instructing Chiyoru to park under visitor's parking while he goes further down to residential parking, and that they will meet at the elevator. Oikawa steps out of the death machine with fawn legs and a new fear for cars.

For some reason, he's completely unfazed when Akaashi presses the button for the floor below the penthouse suite, and tells them to make themselves comfortable while he prepares tea and snacks. Of course he should have expected this when he saw the type of car Akaashi drove earlier.

"Pardon the intrusion," Chiyoru mumbles, slipping off her shoes. Oikawa follows her like a wary younger brother tagging along, staying in the hallway while she gasps and walks all the way to the floor to ceiling windows displaying a wall of grey mist and clouds. "Wow! The view must be nice on a sunny day!"

Lightning flashes; thunder rumbles.

"Don't worry about them, Oikawa, they're tinted," Akaashi calls out, walking out with a tray in his hands. While the siblings sit on the couch and make themselves comfortable, Akaashi kneels on the floor cushion and starts preparing tea, answering questions here and there from Chiyoru.

"How do you know the movements of the White Lotus, Akaashi-san?"

"Akaashi is fine, Oikawa-san. My family had traditionally served the Avatar, but I didn't follow in their footsteps," And then he adds very nonchalantly, "So I was kicked out after my undergraduate degree."

Chiyoru lets out a small gasp, "No."

Akaashi swirls his tea very carefully, paying attention to how the steam wafts up, "I wasn't kicked outright out of the family, but they made it clear that I'm not the most welcome guest in the family house now," He takes a sip of the tea, opens his mouth several times to assess the taste, and offers them the other two cups.

In the distance, he can see a helicopter hovering around Ginza, no doubt a news helicopter trying to take updates from the protests. Oikawa itches for a phone or computer so he can check the news. Not knowing information feels like there are ants crawling around him now, how was he suppose to think of his next move if he doesn't know what he's up against?

"You didn't bring me here for tea," He says. Chiyoru flinches slightly and Oikawa curses himself for raising his voice in a tone he uses when dealing with other people. It'd worked when he was younger, trying to sound older and more wise he will ever be rather than the country boy everyone sees him as.

Akaashi perks up, "That's right. Iwaizumi-san messaged me several days ago asking for advice about how your visit should be handled here. There is of course, the matter of the White Lotus seeking you right now and the escalating protests."

"You shouldn't worry about the protests, Tooru," His sister cuts in, frowning. "It's just nosy internet people who wanted to know where you are at all times."

"The world is angry I disappeared, it's not a surprise."

"The world is angry at a lot of different things! If they knew why you left, they would be angry at the White Lotus instead!"

Akaashi sits through all of this with a polite mask of confusion that he's willing to stay out of, sipping more tea. 

"It's not so simple as that, Nee-chan!" He sees himself as Aang sliding down a snowy hill on the back of a penguin, laughing, "The Avatar has a duty to the world and I've completely ran away and failed them!"

"I know you have a duty! But think before you go back to them so willingly, what will they publish once they get you back? Better yet, what will they do so you can't run away next time?"

Akaashi's voice cuts in, "Whatever reason that Oikawa-san had to not return home...your sister has a point. Once you return back, they will cover up any stories to make themselves look as best as they can be."

His sister turns to Akaashi, "What would they do if they find Tooru?"

Akaashi lowers his eyes; Oikawa has a fleeting thought of his long lashes, "Probably cover up the incident with some nonsense story about homesickness, play it up to the ones with bleeding hearts about how much you miss seeing your parents. I wouldn't be too surprised if they say they found you in Miyagi, visiting family.... I'm not sure what the consequences will be, but they can't physically hurt you."

"Then?"

"Expect to never be let out of their sight again." 

"That's cruelty!" Chiyoru snaps, "My brother hasn't ever visited home ever since he left for training, since when had the White Lotus turned so...unmoral?"

Akaashi takes a long sip of tea, thoughtful, "It could be...that they want to keep the tradition alive. After Avatar Korra's time, many people didn't need the Avatar as they used to, they can fend against natural disasters pretty well, so if the White Lotus continues to work the current Avatar to the bone, always making him appear in important international deals, conferences, guest lecturing, volunteering, becoming another public figure the people admire and look up to...."

"Then the Avatar would still be alive," Oikawa finishes. 

The studious part of his brain supplies him the necessary information. The White Lotus has been around since the time of Kuruk if not earlier, and they always sought to protect, train and devote themselves to serving the Avatar while working in the shadows to share beauty and knowledge across the nations. It wasn't until Korra was born that they started to step out of the shadows. The faction split, he knew this from history and Korra's personal life, and several of the members went to form the Red Lotus, deciding that their newfound roles as bodyguards to the Avatar was not within their personal beliefs.

If something like that happened, he's sure that a percent of the White Lotus also have their own personal beliefs that might not align with the White Lotus during Roku's and Aang's time.

Akaashi looks regretful, mouth turned down. Chiyoru looks at her little brother with wide doe eyes. 

Tooru laughs. His thoughts are ablaze, each second that passes is another complex decision and explanation he'd ran and discarded over the potential reasons the White Lotus would give if he were to expose them and who their brainchild is. He's so tired, "Am I so great that they would want continue to serve me when the world doesn't need me?!"

Perhaps during Avatar Roku, Aang and Korra it would have been an honor for a family to serve the Avatar, but they're not in those times anymore. Tooru knows that half the netizens online could care less about having an Avatar in the world. He is nothing.

Akaashi stares at him like he knows exactly what's running through his mind, "Some think serving you is of the utmost honor,"' He says kindly.

"Honor," Oikawa parrots, spitting. He's been told since young that he's the best bender in the world, that he'll be someone important in the future. Yet the future is now and he's done absolutely nothing. Nothing he's done is worthy of honor.

But who is he but the Avatar?

Who was _Oikawa Tooru, Not Avatar?_ He graduated high school, loved volleyball, loved Iwa-chan, ate a lot of milk bread, thought the world of his Seijou line up, taught the kids and Takeru volleyball, and spent time with Iwa-chan.

Chiyoru and Akaashi are talking in faraway voices as he stares between them at the grey mist covering the city. The urge to disappear rises again, it would be so easy to run away from his family right now — Akaashi's door is made completely out of metal. First, it would be easy to subdue his sister, and though Akaashi hasn't showed any bending, a little pinch and firm hit on the right nerve would knock someone triple his size out.

He walks up and presses his palms on the cold glass, looking down on the Ebisu ward. It's so foggy outside that he can't even see Iwaizumi's building.

He closes his eyes and breathes out slowly, feeling cold descending into his bones.

When he opens his eyes, the sun is strong enough to warrant him raising a hand to block it; he sees Kyoshi tapping her feet at him, arms crossed as she stands in front of him with all her Kyoshi Warrior regalia. 

He bows in greeting, "Hello."

She flicks her fans and starts marching away into a forested path sheltered with trees. Sunbeams peek through the foliage, creating patterns on the ground, the contrast as harsh as Kyoshi's words, "You ask us too much advice for an Avatar."

Her words cut through him like a needle; she knows exactly where to hit. It wasn't as if he's unaware that compared to Aang, who had to quickly master all bending a year to prevent Ozai from rising as an evil dictator, and Korra, who stopped a giant evil spirit from fusing with her uncle and opened the spirit portal and preventing other to-be evil leaders from rising into corruption, his problem isn't as catastrophic as theirs. 

"Yes," Oikawa re-absorbs his angst and feelings like a well used sponge and smiles at her, "I know."

Kyoshi huffs, breaking through the short forest path in a very fast power walk. The clearing is filled with plants native to the Spirit World and a charming, squat tea house with a bench outside, the air around it already smelling like tea. Oikawa hastens his pace, ducking through the low doorway and holding the cloth aside for Kyoshi. Inside, he hears a cadence of a low hum and human voices, but most of all, he immediately sees a portly, smiling man at the counter.

"You two make quite a pair," Iroh greets them, eyes crinkling when they enter.

Oikawa scoffs once and forms a fire insignia with his palms, bowing deeply, "General Iroh." He hears Kyoshi's fans clank against each other as she drops into a shallower bow than his.

Oikawa sees Iroh's tea-stained apron dart into his line of vision and feels his palms patting his elbow in mock scold, "Now, now, you don't need to bow! Especially not the both of you!"

"Oh let them be," A voice calls out from the back of the shop, where an elderly, stooped man is sharing a pot and some sweets with another person. Avatar Aang grins at him, waving a hand and Kyoshi grumbles something under her breath and stomps their way. "Got anymore ginseng, Iroh?"

Iroh nods, waddling behind the counter and grinning, "Yes, of course! Oikawa, you are just in time for our weekly tea parties."

He gives him a guilty smile, "That was the reason why I timed my visit like this actually."

"Ah," Iroh faintly says, looking away, "Well, then advice you will receive, after some food of course. Would you like anything?"

"Yes, some boba would be nice," He drops to the offered chair Aang angles to him as Lord Zuko scoots his chair over to make space. Oikawa studies his modest gold crown, and knows that he left a smaller version of his back in his hotel room in France, before he ran away. His thoughts are broken away when Kyoshi starts squabbling with Aang. 

"Some coffee jelly?"

Kyoshi eyes the half eaten parfait cup like Aang was offering her a dead rat, "No."

"It's made with aaaaagar! It's plant based," Aang coaxes her like trying to feed one of his fussy sons when he was a much younger man, "Oooo, how about this? You should give the mochi a try."

"I'll have the daifuku," She swipes one of the light pink balls dusted with rice flour off an ivory plate, "You should be more open to change, Avatar Aang, and stop eating the same things over and over again."

"But Iroh makes the best mochi!" Aang grins, and Oikawa's stare is drawn away as two glasses of boba are placed in front of him, "Oh, you're finally trying it again, Zuko?"

"Something like that," Lord Zuko rasps, drawing the tall glass towards himself. Oikawa nervously watches him as he takes a big sip, ready to perform the Heimlich. Iroh's grin widens the longer Zuko chews the tapioca balls with an expression that sours every second. "I can't get used to it."

"I will give you grass jelly instead, Nephew," Iroh waddles away, laughing heartily as two more spirits wander in, "After serving those two. Welcome! Welcome!"

Oikawa pulls the glass forward and takes a sip from the massive straw, allowing his cheeks to bulge out. There's an earthy, roasted quality in the milk tea that he can't find anywhere else but the Spirit World. For a second, he feels like all in the world is alright.

"While those two squabble," Zuko nods in the general direction of Kyoshi and Aang, "And you wait for my uncle, how are you, Oikawa?"

He drains his mouth of tea and swallows as quickly as he can, gasping, "_I'm very well, Lord Zuko!_"

"Don't kill him too early," Kyoshi calls out in a bored tone as Zuko shoves a handful of napkins towards him. "I'd hate for him to break Masaru's record of the shortest-living Avatar so far."

"But I thought Kuruk was the shortest living—"

"We do not speak of his name!" 

"Okay, okay," Aang licks some rice flour away from his fingers, pondering, "Where _is _Masaru?"

"Off doing his own thing," Kyoshi puts one elbow on the table, her chin on her palm as she huffs, "Not that I care, he gave the Earth cycle Avatars a bad reputation. I wouldn't want him anywhere around our tea day."

"Masaru isn't a bad person," Aang placates her, pouring more tea. Oikawa blushes when Lord Zuko offers him more napkins and shakes his head, "Just...prickly. He actually reminds me a bit of you, Zuko!"

"...Thanks."

Iroh comes by with another steaming pot on a tray and more sweets on a platter. Aang gets up to grab two more chairs when door to the tea house flies open and Korra jogs in, panting.

"Hey! Sorry, for the lateness," Her hair is short, with several braided blue beads threading through the grey. Her eyes twinkle when she sees Oikawa, "Tooru! Good to see you!"

"Hi Korra," He moves to stand up but gets crushed in a hug that makes his ribs crack audibly. Kyoshi snickers into her tea, and Korra fluffs his hair and pinches his cheeks before settling down.

"OW!"

Iroh reappears, giving her a small smile.

"Welcome Korra, I'm afraid today is not the day for festivities and tea; we must talk about a more pressing matter." Iroh settles into his position at the head of the semi round table which upon further scrutiny, has the pattern of a pai-sho board carved into it. Oikawa senses a thrill of fear from the hard set of his mouth, remembering that he was once groomed to be the Fire Lord before his younger brother usurped the throne from him, "It seems that the White Lotus has strayed from their path."

Only Kyoshi looks unaffected, her bored expression looking like they're talking about the weather. Aang, Zuko, Korra, and Iroh have varying expression of forlorn and frustration. 

"I was a member," Iroh says thoughtfully, moving to grab his teapot before Korra cuts in with a soft _oh let me do it, Iroh_, "A very, very, very long time ago. Our goal then was to protect, find and train the next Avatar. Our second goal was to share knowledge across the then four nations. It saddens me to hear that they are losing sight of them."

"Kyoshi tells me that they been treating you poorly, is that true?" Zuko asks him.

"They haven't allowed me to go home ever since I left for training, and a few days ago I had enough," Oikawa catches Korra's devastated expression and surprisingly, Aang's indifference, "So I left. Now they've declared me missing and several of the White Lotus have been visiting my friends and family, tailing them."

"Could it be that they're concerned about you?" Aang asks.

Kyoshi snorts, "Don't be a fool, what kind of people won't allow the poor boy to go visit his family since he left for training?" Oikawa bristles at the connotation of being a boy when he's nearly forty as Korra nods. "I'm sure if _you _told them you wanted time off, they would gladly give it to you, Aang."

"The Avatar has a duty—" Aang tries to get across.

"The Avatar has a destiny, yes," Oikawa is surprised when Zuko out of all of them interrupts, "But all leaders need rest. To keep him away from his home for twenty years is...." The former Fire Lord's face pinches. Aang's face immediately droops and he looks slightly ashamed for jumping the gun.

"...Even the White Lotus didn't track me down when I went missing," Korra reminds Aang, crossing her arms. "When we were alive, the White Lotus didn't act this way at all! Their actions likely changed during Masaru's reign, but his question now is what he should do next; stay where he is or come out before the White Lotus finds him. _Which result yields the least consequence?_"

Zuko opens his eyes, turning to Iroh, "Uncle, why did you think this happened?"

"Princey," Kyoshi scoffs, "We are on a time limit here. He's not sleeping right now, we don't have time to ponder about why it happened."

"My uncle once told me to draw wisdom from different places," Zuko sharply says to Kyoshi. Oikawa cowers, stuck between them like a child of divorce, or a child of two very angry master benders. "The White Lotus had pride during the time of Avatar Aang and Korra. Clearly something happened during the reign of Avatar Masaru that made them lose the true meaning of what it means to be in the Order."

Oikawa feels his left shoulder grow hot, Chiyoru's voice becoming clearer and clearer and she calls for him. Korra happens to look at him at that moment, yelling, "Tooru!"

The entire table turns to look at him, and Iroh opens his mouth to speak when—

"_Tooru!_" Chiyoru shakes him excessively, rattling his arm socket as Akaashi stands behind her, slightly concerned as he snaps out of it and stares at them, "Daydreaming? You feel warm."

"Thinking," He grumbles at her, turning to his side and hoping that Akaashi doesn't mind how he's going to leave his oily forehead and nose print by leaning on the cold glass. A trip into the Spirit World and he came back with no answers. "I just had a talk with the past Avatars, they more or less told me that I had to choose. Either stay hidden for however long I can or come out before they find me. What do you think, Akaashi?"

Akaashi motions them to the couch, "I don't know how long we can keep you hidden right now. Even if we constantly rotate you around several safe houses- Iwaizumi-san's, Oikawa-san's, mine, Matsukawa-senpai's...Hanamaki-senpai's...eventually one of us could slip and the White Lotus will find you. If that happens, what will they tell the media?

"But, if you come out first, you have the advantage," Akaashi gestures to the flatscreen hanging on his wall, "You could release a statement that could sway the public's opinion in _your _favor. But what happens after the White Lotus realizes you made the first move is again, an answer I cannot give."

Oikawa feels a twinge of hurt throughout his body. Akaashi watches him, frowning, leaning forward until his cool hands cup Oikawa's forehead.

"Fever," He turns to Chiyoru, "I'll get a futon set up and an ice pack."

So his stiffness wasn't from sleeping on Takeru's rock hard mattress, but from a fever, most likely from being cold and wet while hanging onto dear life on the back of the plane and then being too tired to raise his internal temperature up. Oikawa flexes his back muscles weakly, drooping further into his slouch.

"You're steaming," Chiyoru holds his hand and attempts to draw away some heat with no luck, "Tooru, let's just stay here for now, okay?"

He nods, being pushed to where Akaashi had disappeared, immediately raising his internal temperature even more than before in an attempt to sweat out the fever.

Akaashi sets him up in a spare bedroom, placing a jug of water, fever reducing pills and a thermometer on the short night stand as Chiyoru dumps some ice in a bag and presses it to his forehead, "I'll get the congee started and bring take out menus for us."

"Thanks, Akaashi-kun."

A soft hand brushes his hair; he opens his eyes to see his sister.

"Sleep well, Tooru."

He mumbles an agreement, closing his eyes and shifting again. Though the room is cool and dark, he doesn't slip into the abyss as quickly as he'd liked. Instead, he sees the faces of his White Lotus family, wondering if they're aware of the reason for his twenty four-seven guard or if they'd been brainwashed like he was fooled.

_Thirty-eight and still foolish_, he thinks to himself. It was a somewhat comfortable thought knowing that older and much more wiser members (probably) had probably been fooled as well, "Still dumb," He whispers to himself in the darkness of Akaashi's spare bedroom, chuckling. If only Masaru can see him right now, the legendary spartan Avatar's next reincarnation reduced to a grown man who ran away from his duties.

Masaru.

He jolts up, blankets pooling at his lap as he crosses his legs into a neutral meditating position, inhaling and exhaling for several minutes. He wants to go back into the Spirit World, and this time, he's going to find Masaru.

On the exhale, he opens his eyes to the same strange flora and fauna he saw several hours ago, though everything is now in shades of reds and oranges. A field of dragon blood trees sprawl throughout the hills, and meditating under one of them in outdated Earth Kingdom clothes is a short, muscular man with an angry scowl.

"Masaru-san."

Masaru made no attempts to acknowledge him, breathing in and out. Oikawa knows it's rude to shake him awake, so he stands in front of him and waits patiently.

"You won't leave, will you?"

Oikawa gives his predecessor a smile even though he can't see it, "You know me."

A sigh, and Masaru opens his eyes, snappish, "What is it, Oikawa?"

"I want to ask some questions."

When he's looking at him, Oikawa can't help but make comparisons to his grandson. The furrow of the brow and the jawline is identical to the way Iwaizumi would disapprovingly look at him, "Ask away then, I assume you're a busy man."

"I wanted to hear why you changed the White Lotus's goal."

Masaru stares at him, like Oikawa is a very dumb dog who can't understand commands, "Confirming who the Avatar is, is one of the most important thing the White Lotus can do for the world. There had been mistakes in the past, but I've made sure to lay laws into the Four Nations that allows discreet testing to be slipped into society," The Spartan Avatar frowns, thunder appearing between his brows, "Why? Is there something wrong with the tests?" 

Oikawa quickly shakes his head, "No, no, no the tests work perfectly fine!"

"You're a liar, you found out when you drowned and my grandson saved you."

"That aside," Oikawa attempts to steer the conversation back, "Was there anything else you changed when you were the Avatar?"

Masaru crosses his arms and thinks, staring at the red earth, "There were many things. For one, I completed the ban of blood bending that Avatar Korra started when I was twenty-three. My second one was to install sirens around the nation warning the citizens of natural disasters coming their way—"

"Anything Avatar-related?"

A pause, then, "I think it would benefit both of us if you say it straight. We can sit here until the next moon appears about all the things I changed."

"I have been prevented from coming home for twenty years," Oikawa whispers quietly, "They have blocked and redirected me from ever touching foot in my birth country that I had to sneak away and lose my guard. Was there a secret agenda you gave to the White Lotus when you were still alive?"

Masaru gazes at him for a moment, the sunset turning his grey-green eyes a warm brown color before he sighs.

"Sit down, Oikawa, we have a lot to talk about."

_Delivering your wonder boy right over_, goes Akaashi's text. _His fever lessened, he's eating pretty well. Lung and heart sound good._

Iwaizumi frowns, fingers blurred over the screen as he turns the heat up in his apartment and checks that he has enough cups for the four of them, _he's not my wonder boy_. Then, upon reading that Oikawa had been suffering from a fever quietly all this time, _thanks though, i hope your futon doesn't stink_

_Haha._

The doorbell chimes, and Iwaizumi blinks, heading over to the door, "He could have said he was walking here if they're this quick."

The doorbell rings again, and Iwaizumi feels a growl rise up his throat, unlatching the lock and swinging open his metal door that has surprisingly suffered no damage thanks to a certain Avatar, "PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE!—"

A White Lotus guard is standing in front of him, bowing his head as his long coat drips onto the clean floors, creating puddles.

"I know the Avatar is here, may I come in?" Ushijima Wakatoshi asks.

_"Gazing at the rain clouds again?" Ame interrupts his brooding and extends her umbrella to cover him, getting her suit soaked. "It's cold, Avatar Tooru."_

_He moves one step away from her to be in the rain again, "I like it, standing on top of this tall building."_

_She surveys the limited view blandly, "It's unfortunate we came here during the rainy season."_

_"No," He looks across the city shrouded in fog, the tallest skyscrapers hidden. Everything is in shades of grey and it's perfect. Here, at this height, he's just another tourist getting soaked on his balcony, looking down. He wishes the fog would cover him too, "I've always liked standing in the rain and feeling the power of storms."_

_He gazes down one last time, already getting nagged by his guard to not catch a cold and wishing he can disappear._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i expected struggling with writing since ive been gone from for a long time...but yikes, this took me nearly six weeks to polish. regardless, i want to continue to write, and i hope you enjoyed oikawa's side of the story this chapter c:


	3. Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a refreshment of the cast  
-iwaizumi, 38, an orthopedics surgeon with a short temper and an even shorter fuse for things concerning his (former?) best friend who happens to be-  
-oikawa, 38, our avatar whose previous life is iwaizumi's maternal grandfather. currently going through an identity crisis  
-matsukawa & hanamaki, 38, a nurse and lab personnel respectively, and nicknamed Gremlin 1 and Gremlin 2 in iwaizumi's contacts  
-chiyoru, ??, oikawa's older sister, her age is a mystery  
-akaashi, 37, who have Friends in High Places and mysteriously "dealt with" some White Lotus agents outside Chiyoru's house at 4AM the chapter before  
-ushijima, 38, an unexpected guest from last chapter

"You got some really bad info," Iwaizumi says, leaning on his door frame and staring into the eyes of his past high school volleyball rival. Come to think of it, Ushijima vanished from the news after landing the starting line up for 2020 and 2024. The crest of his White Lotus uniform mocks him, "Oikawa's gone missing. Your people already came by earlier this week."

Iwaizumi had seen his old rival exactly twice after high school ended. Once in 2020 when Ushijima was switching in during the first round of the men's semifinals, and the second in during the third and final match of 2024's final. He looked slimmer but there was a definite bulge of muscle beneath the coat.

"Ame-san isn't our best earthbender," Ushijima quietly says, eyes shifting from left and right, "But where else would he go if not to you?"

"Other people."

Ushijima's face pinches, and he looks like he's half worried and half constipated, "I need to talk to the Avatar."

Like a sudden storm and dam bursting, his anger overflows.

"Say his name normally at least!" Iwaizumi struggles to keep his irrationality in. Oikawa is the Avatar, that's a fact like the sky is blue. So why is he so annoyed that everyone keeps acting like his childhood friend is some mighty god? "His name is Oikawa and you knew him well before he even started training!"

"I—"

The elevator door slides open and Oikawa steps out with Chiyoru and Akaashi trailing behind, eyes zoned in to his former rival dressed in the White Lotus's dark blue suit and white crest. The lift of his cheekbones, supported by laughter, fades abruptly.

Like a blink-and-you'll-miss-it, Oikawa darts forward, eyes glowing. He drops into a weird stance, and Ushijima snaps to attention like someone had pulled the strings of his puppet, face turning pale as he strains against some sort of invincible hold—

"Stop it!" Iwaizumi yanks on Oikawa's arm, shaking. Ushijima gasps for a breath like fish out of water, but Oikawa's metal bracelets fly off and subdues Iwaizumi from grabbing onto him, who falls onto the floor. 

The weird arm movements continues, pushing Ushijima down until he and Oikawa are both kneeling on the floor, Ushijima's head shaking as if an invisible hand is lowering it down—

With a quiet thump, Iwaizumi stares at the body, horrified and disturbingly fascinated that Ushijima went from standing to slumped in twenty seconds flat.

Chiyoru is deathly white, standing at the door of the elevator, outlined by the harsh fluorescent lights, "T-Tooru!"

Oikawa stands up with a firm line on his mouth, eyes back to normal as he moves his arms in a circular motion, a gust of air lifting Ushijima, "Is there room for one more in your place?"

Iwaizumi struggles, rubbing his wrist on the metal and wincing when it bites the insides of his wrist. He manages to roll himself up to a crouching position, "What the fuck, Oikawa?!"

"It's necessary, your brain might not have realized it, but anyone who wears a White Lotus crest is an enemy to me right now. And if he plans to take me down, well," Oikawa pauses, huffing, "Guess my reflexes are better than his at least."

A flick of his chin and the metal on him springs free to twist themselves into a convenient set of handcuffs that snap firmly around the unconscious lump on the floor. Ushijima is then transported into Iwaizumi's darkened hallway with Oikawa following behind like a shepherd herding a large elephant.

Iwaizumi rubs his wrists, feeling a flap of skin peeling. He prods the area, squeezing to see if the metal drew blood.

"Are you okay?"

He looks up at Chiyoru, giving her a small smile, "Nothing I can't handle." He turns to his half open door and beckons a hand to Akaashi and Chiyoru warily, "We can't stay out here."

Chiyoru hesitates before taking her shoes off at the genkan, but she pads in after her brother, finding a switch to light up the lights. Akaashi, however, is rooted to the spot, jaw clenched, and Iwaizumi has to spin him around and starts pushing until they're in the safety of his apartment.

"—totally unnecessary," Chiyoru rants away as they take their shoes off and pads inside. She's pouring water into the cups he'd line up on the kitchen counter as Tooru folds Ushijima's body into a somewhat neutral sitting position while stretching his metal cuffs around his limbs. "You didn't need to do that just to subdue him! What are you, Tooru? A criminal?"

"Don't speak of things you don't understand," And Iwaizumi starts to seethe at the way Oikawa is behaving to his sister. Again, the arrogance is back; Iwaizumi inhales deeply to prevent setting the Avatar on fire, "What if he's buying time so the White Lotus blocks our exit and traps us? What if he really wanted to knock me unconscious? What if he takes you as a hostage? Are you really going to let an airbender like him suffocate you?"

"So if you think they're a threat," He cuts in, shouldering past Chiyoru who looks like she's ready to dump her cup of water on her younger brother, "You automatically subdue them in the worst way possible?"

Oikawa smiles enigmatically, face serene, "It was the quickest and best way to take him down without destroying the surroundings and alerting your neighbors. What would you have done, Iwa-chan? Try to _talk _him out of it?"

Iwaizumi squares up to him, hating how he's always, _always _shorter than Oikawa, and how Oikawa would always surreptitiously look down his nose at him when he thinks he's right, "You didn't even know what he wanted!"

"And you do?" Oikawa drawls. The water droplets are bent off Ushijima's coat into a single stream where it's lead to the kitchen sink with a quick jerk of his hand. He twists it around to inspect the state of his cuticles, "One hundred percent you knew that he had good intentions by coming here?"

Iwaizumi grits his teeth, "You really are the worst."

"Then tell me what you would have done," Oikawa demands, stepping forward until they're nose to nose like two days ago. This time, their hearts were racing for entirely different reasons, "You see someone hunting you down speak to your friend. You don't know if they have back-up, you don't know how many people there could be on their side, you don't know anything except that your family can be taken as hostage in the few seconds that you take to blink and think! Tell me, Iwaizumi, what you would have done if you were in my shoes!"

Iwaizumi shouts, "We're not in high school anymore, you don't need to shut him down that quickly like he's threatening you!"

"Correct! This is not high school!" Oikawa yells, "This is where people disappear with no trace or die!"

"Stop escalating everything into dramatic territory!" He jabs his finger into Oikawa's chest, where he can feel the skin on his finger start to blister by the heat that's coming out of Oikawa's nose as he breathes in and out like a heavy bull, "You've always been so biased against him since we were younger!"

"Oh and you weren't?!"

"At least the first thing I did when I saw him was talk to him and not perform a type of sub-bending that's been outlawed and can get me jailed!" Iwaizumi removes his finger, lowering his voice and growling, "You know what your problem is, Oikawa? You don't think about other possibilities and you always jump to the conclusion that people always have it out for you. You haven't changed at all!"

In the silence that follows, Oikawa's breathing lessen and Iwaizumi looks down at his reddened skin, pulling away and jerking his head up quick enough to see that Oikawa has turned away from him. His shoulder slowly slumps.

Iwaizumi feels remorse creeping through, exchanging a look with Chiyoru who looks at him like he's gone out of line.

"Oikawa—"

"It's good then," Oikawa's voice sounds rough, like he'd swallowed sandpaper, "That I'm thinking of retiring."

"Always with the snacking," Hanamaki greets him when the train doors open. Matsukawa grins, swinging a plastic bag as he enters the train and grabs an empty seat. They're on their way to Iwaizumi's powwow meeting, and the trains at this hour have thinned out considerably that they're able to move instead of being pressed like sardines.

"Working tomorrow?" He eyes Hanamaki's backpack, probably filled with a toothbrush set, face cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen, wallet and work ID. 

"Not all of us are lucky nurses who work four on and four off," Hanamaki eagerly digs out several packages of bento and snacks Matsukawa had brought, "Ooh, nice! You got my favorites!"

"Mine are ten hour shifts, which are two hours more than yours. And hey, they're Oikawa's favorites now," He says, plucking a packet of Puccho candies out of Hanamaki's claws and handing him a box of banana milk instead, "Let the king eat first, then we can clean up after him."

Hanamaki makes quick work of the milk, holding up the empty box with his mouth to stare at the advertisements in the train. There's one for an English academy, a notary in Ueno, and four for different elevator schools. He takes the box out of his mouth as the train doors shut with a quiet hiss, "D'you think he's going to stay?"

"Who?"

"Oikawa."

Matsukawa looks out into the night at the several houses near the train lines that are still lit, "Our captain has always been a selfish goody-goody hasn't he, Makki?"

"I thought I was the one asking questions. What is that suppose to mean anyway?"

"It means that the Oikawa of our past is the type of person to do whatever he wanted, and to answer your question...I think it depends on which version he is now," Matsukawa rips open the Puccho candies to the offended gasp of Hanamaki, offering him a grape one, "The captain of our day would be selfish, but the Avatar would be selfless and choose the path that's best for the world."

Hanamaki squeezes the carton, "I think I'd go insane choosing the 'right' path like he always is. Some of these world leaders are so dumb, how can Oikawa sit in a room full of them and not burn down the entire building? Me? I would have started a small fire and escaped when the fire alarm rings."

"It's not like he had a choice," Those words seem too heavy, too final. But it's true anyway, even if they try to sweeten it, "None of them had a choice."

They look out into the darkness of the city, falling silent, occasionally passing through stations filled with fluorescent lights and drunk workers coming back from restaurants. Matsukawa closes his eyes for the remainder of the ride, letting his body be jostled along the train's movements as they speed closer and closer towards Ebisu.

A nudge makes him slit his eyes open.

"Remember when we were like that?" Hanamaki says, chin towards a group of high schoolers who must have hopped onto the train after a training match, jerseys over their shoulders as they dump their bags and backpacks to the floor to cajole about the some okonomiyaki restaurant and the appearance of a B-list American movie star. "Remember when we didn't have wrinkles?"

He nearly smiles, "Yeah."

Yes because life after graduation was dull and the highlight reels in his life, the brightest memories accompanied with exuberant sound and colors were all from volleyball and Seijou. Everything else paled in comparison and he doesn't even try to hide it. He, Hanamaki and Iwaizumi often spend at least four days of each year drinking themselves to sleep while they boot up Iwaizumi's ancient laptop with videos and photos of their old team, reminiscing. Those meetings always felt off, like they were eternally one person short. 

He tries not to dwell on that; it wouldn't be living otherwise, to be stuck in the past.

"I'm glad Oikawa is here," He says, drooping once more and shutting his eyes. The rattle rattle of the train causes Makki to lean in, the waft of shampoo strengthening, "Even though he came with a legitimate problem, it's nice to have him around again, you know...even if he is going to leave. Feels like old times."

Hanamaki is quiet, what he says next makes Matsukawa want to open his eyes, "...Why does he have to leave?"

They disembark at Ebisu station, watching one of the high school boys take the stairs two steps at a time, leaping past the last ten or so steps to land firmly on his heels before waving his arms to an older brother hovering around the station's mouth. The walk to Iwaizumi's is filled with Matsukawa trying to bat Hanamaki away from the food, and Hanamaki batting his eyelashes like a cow and grinning heartily. It was as if the last comment was not meant for Matsukawa's ears.

_Beep boop boop beep let us in_, his phone says, a text from Gremlin 1.

Iwaizumi flickers his eyes towards the couch where Akaashi is sitting with a cup of water held between his hands. Chiyoru is sitting next to him, arguing quietly to an Oikawa who is ignoring his sister while gazing out the slits of his blinds at the darkness and pretending not to look at his rival with red-rimmed eyes.

When he opens the door, Matsukawa and Hanamaki points out his usual grumpiness, saying how nice it was to see him riled up again. Iwaizumi is too tired to correct them and tosses guest slippers at their feet before moving away. 

Their good mood and smiles drop the moment they step into the living room.

"What the fuck," Hanamaki gawks at Ushijima, who recognizes him instantly, squirming. He's tied like a pig, all four limbs knotted with a thick metal rope that looks impossible to break unless you're a metalbender. There seem to be a thicker metal cord around his mouth covered with a soft looking towel, perhaps Iwaizumi had stuffed it along side because he felt sorry for his old rival. "I come here bearing food and this is the sight I'm greeted to? Ushijima Wakatoshi tied up?"

"_I_ brought the food," Matsukawa corrects, putting it on Iwaizumi's tiny dining table that can only seat two. He looks between Ushijima and Oikawa, the latter turning his back on the former, "So...was he stalking out your apartment or something?"

"Yea, that's what I wanted to know until Oikawa here bloodbended him unconscious," Iwaizumi quietly snaps, "Knowing that it's against the law to do that on an unexpected civilian."

Oikawa immediately pipes up, moving away from the window, "I've already told you my reasoning," His voice is hard, "And I'm not going to waste my time doing that anymore. Time to interrogate!"

There was a split second where Iwaizumi thought Oikawa was going to go into the Avatar state again to force answers out, but the hand that comes up only melts the metal blocking Ushijima from talking. It hovers threateningly in the air, twisting from a sharp dagger to multiple bullets floating, a clear sign.

Oikawa crouches down and heaves Ushijima right side up so he sits, albeit stooped awkwardly due to his limbs being tied, "First rule, I ask questions and you answer them. Second rule, you make any type of signal and I'm bringing your soul into the Spirit World. Understand?"

Ushijima looks frustrated, carefully gelled back hair falling around his eyes, "Yes."

"Do you have any ill intentions?" Iwaizumi cuts in, shouldering his best friend aside like he's nothing more than a nuisance. Hanamaki stifles a snort at the pure look of offence on Oikawa's face.

"No."

"How did you find me?" Oikawa demands, face an inch away from Ushijima. Iwaizumi doesn't know what happened to Ushijima once he left his club, but the years did a number on him, there's a few strands of visible grey hair mixing amongst his brown ones. "I want all the names of those who know my current location."

"A guess. You could be in any of their—" Ushijima tilts his head towards the occupants of the room, "—homes. It would be easy to trick the White Lotus too if you were switched every few days. I'm the only know who's aware."

"Are you working alone?"

"Yes."

"Are they still going to check in on me or have they given up?"

"They're focusing on Miyagi right now," Ushijima says, "They're probably still curious about Tokyo because no one else in Miyagi would be there—"

Oikawa shrills, "_My parents are still!—_"

Iwaizumi spits sparks out of his mouth, "Shut up, Oikawa! You ask him questions and he's replying!"

"Oh, are you the interrogator, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa mocks, standing to his feet in a swift, fluid movement and staring Iwaizumi down like he's an unwanted bug, "I wasn't aware!"

"My house, Oikawa! Are you trying to get me reported for noise complaint? It's past 10 already!"

"Your house your rules, eh? Well then let me excuse myself and knock Ushiwaka here out again and get out of your way—"

Akaashi, who has been sitting quietly all this time sipping his nth glass of water, rises up from the sofa and leans down, "What is the White Lotus going to say when they find the Avatar?"

Oikawa and Iwaizumi stop squabbling, looking down at Ushijima. The former professional volleyball player licks his lips, eyes darting around the faces, "I...don't know."

"You're useless," Oikawa says flatly, crouching and poking at Ushijima's cheek like he's a cute toy, "How do you feel now, Wakawaka-wan? You always said for me to come to Shiratorizawa but here we are, some twenty odd years later where I'm clearly better than you."

"I don't know man," Hanamaki cuts in, looking up from his phone and waving the rectangle of light freely, "There's a time to be petty but isn't it too much right now, captain? You should worry about this instead, it says the White Lotus is going to release a statement tomorrow," He tosses Oikawa his phone.

Oikawa's eyes scans the article back and forth. The way the blue light shines on his face reminds Iwaizumi painfully of how old they were from the Oikawa that wanted to take down Ushijima twenty years ago. Then he feels irritation at Oikawa that he can't explain. 

"Well, does anyone have a camera, laptop and internet?"

"What are you doing?" Ushijima asks, frowning. A beat later, he swallows nervously as he broke the first rule Oikawa had established.

The Avatar seemed to have forgotten about the interrogation, because with a quick snap of his fingers, the metal holding Ushijima melts off of him like water and snaps back onto his wrists, ankles and whatever earrings that was there before they were taken out. Oikawa turns to Akaashi, eyes wide, "Idol-chan, you made some amateur movies when you were in high school, right? Can I count on you?"

Warily, like approaching a snake, "Well, yes, but what do you need me for?"

"You said it yourself earlier," Oikawa nods, looking around at everyone in the room, "The only way to get people on my side is to make the first move and I'm tired of playing goody-two-shoes. Help me film a video and upload it online."

"...One condition."

This statement stops Oikawa in his tracks, where he was going over to the dining table to grab the food Matsukawa had brought. Iwaizumi curls and uncurls his fingers, ready to step in and jump in front of Akaashi just in case Oikawa's patience snaps- after Ushijima appeared, he's wary.

Akaashi crosses his arms, his earlier anxiousness forgotten as Iwaizumi recognizes the tone of voice he's using. It was Akaashi's doctor voice, used only for the patients who veer off their care plan, "You're going to take a nap while I set up the lighting and move all the furniture aside. I want a full nap, Oikawa, two entire sleep cycles if you can."

Oikawa's smile stretches thinly across his face, "You taught your disciple well, Iwa-chan. Fine, I'll be setting up my own futon, grab me when things are ready," He pads off towards the direction of Iwaizumi's bedroom and veers off into the bathroom at the last moment, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Akaashi blinks, quietly murmuring, "I expected more of a fight."

"Yea," Iwaizumi frowns, he claps his hands and addresses his friends, "Well, Akaashi is going to lead this so help him out to your abilities."

"Skipping, vice-captain?" Matsukawa drawls as he shrugs off his jacket to reveal a plain black t-shirt, Akaashi is quietly talking to someone about walls, onions, and Tor, whatever that was.

"I'm moving my blackout curtains from my room to here you dipshit," Iwaizumi grabs a piece of grape candy and flicks it at Matsukawa, where it hits him squarely on the forehead, "I don't want someone to wonder why I'm filming a daytime scene when it's already past—" He checks his phone, "—eleven."

"You don't have work tomorrow, Hajime-kun?" Chiyoru fusses over Ushijima, bringing him water and muttering something about Oikawa and how lucky he is that he's the Avatar or else he would be getting the worst yelling of his life right now. Ushijima, for the most part, looks resigned to his fate, that or he's used to being held as a hostage. Iwaizumi has thought about catching up with his old rival, but that thought is quickly pushed off to the side. Oikawa first, then being social.

"I'm on vacation," He calls, entering his bedroom and hearing Oikawa faintly humming from the bathroom. He quickly removes the curtains with a huff, and shuffles back out. He drops it in front of Matsukawa, "Help me with the curtains please."

Matsukawa nods amicably and starts whistling as he starts installing the rods in place. Once upon a time Iwaizumi had blackout curtains for every window in his apartment but he got a fever one day; sparks and flammable material do not go well together. If he looked closed enough, he could still see the faint scorch marks on the walls below the windows.

The sound of glass shattering draws his attention from the windows to Chiyoru, who's snapped out of it and is groaning and apologizing to his floors, "Shoot. I'm sorry, Hajime-kun, I'll grab paper towels—"

Akaashi bends down next to her with his handkerchief already mopping the spill.

"It's not a big deal, at least I don't have carpet," He says. Her face still looks pinched as she frowns down at the glass shards.

"...I'm sorry," Ushijima apologizes quietly.

Everyone turns to him, realizing that he must have said something to upset her. Hanamaki smoothly drops down to his knees and gives him a deadpan stare, looking like a deranged sheet ghost with a green tea face mask sitting on his skin, "You made her upset, what did you say to her?"

Ushijima's eyes flashes up to Iwaizumi, where he's still standing, arms holding up the heavy curtain. The White Lotus member licks his lips, hesitating, "I said that they're planning to trap him."

In two seconds, he's joined Hanamaki on the floor, "A trap?"

"We...I mean- they're planning to use a Dai Li agent to...revert him to the old Avatar they knew," Ushijima clenches his fist, "That's why the news are telling people to call the White Lotus first when they see Oikawa. Once he's brainwashed and manipulated to how they like it, they'll probably take him away," His eyes flickers up, "That's what I wanted to tell Oikawa tonight."

_"Sit down, Oikawa, we have a lot to talk about."_

_Oikawa drops into cross-legged position, palms resting in his lap as Masaru follows a beat later, frowning and picking up a pebble to gaze at it._

_"My life is a lie."_

_He lets out a squeak of surprise, "What do you mean? You're not the Avatar?"_

_Masaru shakes his head, tossing the pebble behind him. The eternal scowl on his face eases, "I took the coward's approach to become one, I wasn't born like this," He waves his hand around his body," He pauses, face scrunching like he'd eaten a sour lemon, his voice trembles the slightest, "...I was timid and weak and scared to be the Avatar. The White Lotus were worried how the world will perceive someone with so little willpower."_

_He says quietly, to not disturb the dancing leaves surrounding them by some of the spirits that have wandered by, "Aang was scared to be one too."_

_"He was more scared of the Fire Lord, I think, and the comet's return," Masaru rubs his finger on the dirt, drawing out the symbol of the Earth Kingdom, "The White Lotus tried everything— they tried counselling me, cognitive behaviour therapy, meditation, acupuncture, anxiety medications.... The world looked grim, and I too, had no hope for myself. You must have thought it at some point of your training right? 'Why was I the Avatar?' 'I wish Raava chose someone else.'"_

_He thinks of the lonely nights without his family, "I did."_

_"I ran away many times, and they caught me many times."_

_"You never asked your previous lives for advice?"_

_"I should have, but I didn't. I was afraid of their judgement, which is so laughable to think about now that I'm dead, but I didn't want them to think that Korra's successor was a meek little bookworm who had trouble with everything."_

_Masaru smiles, changing the subject after he takes a quick peek at Oikawa's face, a straight line cut into the deep lines of his face, "I'm sure you're familiar with my daughter."_

_"Yes."_

_"The other thing I regret was forcing her to have a father like me. I thought that if I continued being strict, the weakness that runs in my family will stop. Stupid, isn't it?"_

_Oikawa doesn't know what to say._

_"So!" Masaru laughs, with a sharp exhale of ha! "My lie! How did I became this way, you ask? It's the work of the Dai Li, Avatar Oikawa Tooru. One of their members is gifted with the skill of hypnosis, and that hypnosis caused my worries about being the Avatar to ease. You can call my yearly meetings with the Dai Li part of the White Lotus's secret agenda because it was my greatest secret and shame. It still is," He lifts up his finger from the dirt and looks away, "Even in death...I'm still ashamed."_

When he opens his eyes, he sees Iwaizumi's familiar ceiling with colors moving across it. It was odd, so he sits up to rub his eyes and notices that the floor to ceiling black curtains were absent from their usual place. A faint whoosh from the main roads manages to penetrate the quiet neighbourhood, and Oikawa can see from his spot on the ground that someone in the building across is studying near a window, headphones in. 

"Tooru?" His sister's voice interrupts. She peeks inside, "Did you fever come back?"

"I don't think so," He rips his eyes away from her face, pinched with worry, and fusses with the covers, remembering how disappointed and angry she was over him bloodbending, "I'll be out in a few, I need to tidy this up."

The door shuts quietly behind and Oikawa takes in a deep breath, stretching up to reach for the ceiling. He inhales for eight and holds it, leaning down to touch the ground for eight and holds. No matter where he is, no matter if he's in different time zones, in the coldest regions of the world where everything is covered in darkness or a barren land with only sand to gaze upon for miles and miles, he starts his day off with a stretch.

When he steps out, already saying goodbye to Iwaizumi's bedroom, the sofa and dining table have been pushed to the corner to accommodate for a set of stage lights and a stool. Someone had hung sheets on the wall the sofa used to lean against to provide a white backdrop. Something warm touches his cheek.

Hanamaki pulls back the mug of coffee, "Yo captain! Let's a-go-go! I have a sheet mask for you if you want it— you kinda look like you need it to be honest. Iwaizumi's in the kitchen making all of us breakfast. Akaashi wants you to sit on the stool for a bit so he can fiddle with the camera and lights, and then when you're done eating we can start shooting. But here, most importantly, drink some bean juice first."

Hanamaki starts pulling him forward, and Oikawa sits on the stool and tries not to flinch too much when the lights turn on, blasting at his face like a too bright sun at night. Akaashi, looking entirely too awake for someone to be at three in the morning, mumbles for him to move the chair slightly to the left, and the lights are shut off as quickly as they come on.

Oikawa hears someone calling his name from somewhere far away, but he doesn't really react to it. He's more worried about what to say, and how the world will react to it. Shame, Masaru had said, those secret meetings with the Dai Li were so shameful that he still worries about it in death. Would that be him? Always wandering around the Spirit World, drawing only the loneliness of spirits around as he worries about this decision years after his death? The world has never heard of an Avatar retiring anyway, he would probably be the laughing stock of the century.

"Ok, well I'm doing it anyway," Matsukawa drawls, bending down to his knees. At the close proximity of his face, Oikawa yelps, realizes that the coffee mug isn't in his hands anymore and yelps even louder before he airbends the mug from shattering.

Matsukawa hums a cheery tune as he clips Oikawa's bangs off to the side to slide a headband around his hairline, "Mattsun!" He accuses.

"Hey, I asked you like, seven times if you wanted a face mask. You didn't seem to care so I made the executive decision to do it anyway," He rips open the package and tilts Oikawa's chin up so he can smooth the mask down. Up this close, Oikawa watches the skin around Matsukawa's eyes pull and stretch into faint crow lines. His stomach is rolling around like an aircraft free-falling in the middle of a monsoon so he decides to make small talk.

"You're wrinkling."

Matsukawa blinks at him and grins, smoothing the area around his chin next, "You're wrinkling too, Oikawa," And Oikawa takes a sharp inhale at his next words; of course Mattsun can read him, "We can't still look the same, it won't be 'growth' otherwise."

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. Internally, he knew he could trust Mattsun with anything, but it was hard. For years he's kept everything bottled up. His voice wobbles slightly when he says, "Even if my growth is backwards?"

Matsukawa rubs the extra serum on his hands, roughened from work. Oikawa stares at the curl of his mouth, like an older brother telling his little sister that the spider isn't in the room anymore, "That's okay. I believe you once said in practice, 'Fall down seven times, get up eight times.' And growth is never linear, right?"

"...No," He grips the stool, "But what if they think I'm a total nutcase? No Avatar has ever retired."

"You can't please everyone. There will be people who'll hate you and people who'll understand you. And besides, they're all strangers anyway, why should the opinion of strangers matter?"

"They matter because I'm the Avatar and I'm—" Oikawa takes exhales, slumping, "—I'm suppose to listen to them!"

"Even if you're the Avatar, you don't need to listen to shit if it makes you angry. The Avatar can't be sympathetic to everyone, right? Aang maybe could, but he's Aang. You're not him."

"I guess," Oikawa replies quietly, "...But it's not fair."

Matsukawa laughs quietly under his breath, peering up from under his lashes, "Has anyone told you? 'Life isn't fair?'"

Oikawa begrudgingly looks at him, "I've heard of that somewhere before."

"There you go, Captain. One step at a time, okay?" Matsukawa straightens with a grunt, massaging his knees. "Akaashi seems to be done, let's eat."

Breakfast seemed to be in the kitchen with chairs and stools all around the space between the stove and sink. Iwaizumi was scooping fried eggs, bread topped with cheese, some pike mackerel with bacon on plates like a mother feeding an army of pubescent boys. There's a few cups of coffee handed around, his sister holding them in her hands for short bursts of heat before handing it off. Everyone's knees are pressed together due to the size of the galley and the fact that most of them were tall athletes.

Akaashi is already seated and wolfing down four eggs on the chair closest to the stove. Next to him was his sister, plate still steaming next to the coffee machine and line of mugs. Ushijima was sitting next to her, in front of the fridge now, trying to squeeze his big frame into the most compact form possible; they make accidental eye contact and the kitchen falls silent.

"Mattsun!" Hanamaki accuses, sitting across Akaashi with two chairs to the left of him and one more to the right of him, "Did you just give him my favorite mask without asking?!"

"You offered it. Hey Chef, I want four eggs, two fishies and two bacons and one toast I guess."

"You were suppose to give him the other one!" Hanamaki grumps as Matsukawa sits to his right after receiving his plate with a grunt of annoyance. Oikawa stares at Matsukawa, looking at the only two seats left that are closest to the sink.

"I'll buy you another one, oh my god," Matsukawa spears Hanamaki's fish, "It's too early for this."

His sister shuffles through the legs and pulls him forward into the circle, hands warm on his skin, "Come eat, Tooru."

She sits him down next to Hanamaki, turning around to speak softly to Iwaizumi, "Maybe two of each, Hajime-kun."

"Okay. And for you?"

"Bacon and eggs, thanks."

Iwaizumi turns around, surrounded by knees and pants, shuffling awkwardly before dropping next to Oikawa, pushing his plate into his lap. The scent of grease, cheese, and carbs fill Oikawa's nose and he puts bacon into his mouth before he says something dumb. 

Iwaizumi mutters for coffee, rubbing his dominant arm to Oikawa's left. Oikawa pokes the yolks of his eggs, letting them run down the side of the white and gently pooling on his plate before he mops it with some toast, thinking of the words he said last to Iwaizumi, and how arrogant he seemed. Everything in this kitchen, the knees, the plates, the warmth of bodies, is too close.

"D'you know what you want to say?" Akaashi asks quietly, leaning over to the stove and filling his plate up with seconds. "Iwaizumi-san doesn't have a very good editing software on his laptop, so we likely only have one clean take unless you're fine with filming everything from the beginning."

"It's a trap," Someone cuts in. 

Oikawa stares across the circle, "Huh?"

Ushijima frowns at someone's toes, not making eye contact with Oikawa, "I came here to warn you. I don't know what you plan to do after you broadcast the video but once your face is seen and someone calls the White Lotus hotline, they're planning to bring you to the Dai Li."

Oikawa laughs, a hard edge to his voice; he'd predicted this, especially after what Masaru had confided in him. There was no way now that he's acted on his own that the White Lotus would take him back quietly after sparking so much talk online, "So the secret police of the past and present are wanting to brain wash me like they did during the time of Avatar Aang?" He grins. Though the threat of the Dai Li shouldn't be taken lightly, the prospect of outsmarting the people whom had trained him was too good to pass up, "Fine, I'd like to see them try to take me in quietly without making a scene."

"_Stop treating this like a match!_" 

Oikawa blinks at Ushijima before turning his head to Iwaizumi, who has graciously blew out his hearing on his left, cheeks flushed red from anger, "This is your life! This isn't some high school championship where if we don't win all is well!"

Oikawa glares at him, aware that the coffee in everyone's mugs is bubbling furiously before watching the liquid simmer down as Iwaizumi breathes like a bellow, "I know about the Dai Li and what they can do to me. Sit down, Iwaizumi."

"_You knew and you're still going to go ahead with this hare-brained plan?!_"

Hanamaki leans across to yank him back down on his seat, "Iwaizumi, _your voice!_ Some people aren't night shift workers."

"I have a plan," Oikawa turns to Iwaizumi, stretching his knees as he looks down. Irritation flares around his throat as he feels red creep up his face. "I never said that I was going to blindly go into the fight without one." 

"Boys, boys..." Chiyoru tries to bat at their knees, groaning when Iwaizumi also decides to stand up, leaning in until Oikawa can see the pores of his nose.

"You should have said something," Comes the pin-drop whisper.

"You should have trusted me," He replies, steady gaze and even tone.

Iwaizumi leans back, takes a deep breath in through his nose and exhales from his mouth like he's trying to control himself from releasing an explosive array of words, exhaling a shower of sparks into the sink, "You're such an ass sometimes. What do you have in mind?"

Oikawa puts down his half eaten breakfast on his chair, making a rectangle with both of his thumbs and index fingers, pretending to be a frame as he hums and goes over his friend's expressions, all ranging between concerned and incredulous, "I want Idol-chan to do something for me. Do you know how to do a live broadcast from your phone?"

"Who doesn't?"

Oikawa drops his cheery smile, "Me."

Akaashi opens his phone, thumbing through several apps, "Will we be setting up cameras in order to capture the White Lotus? How many phones do I need to borrow?"

"I'll leave all of that to you, just make sure that people will clearly see me getting kidnapped by the White Lotus."

"There's one big problem I see," Hanamaki raises his hand, "You can't control when and where you're going to be brainwashed. They won't do it out in the public, I'm sure."

"That's true," Oikawa stuffs another piece of toast in his mouth, chewing, "Then should the phone be on me when they kidnap me?"

"What if they take it away?"

Oikawa hums, watching Matsukawa's head sway. He briefly makes eye contact with Iwaizumi, who is still staring at him with intensity. He quickly looks away and ends up settling his gaze at Ushijima, who is sitting primly with a clean plate and blinking back at him, looking lost.

Oikawa grins.

"I'm going on my break," He calls out. His department nods with various signs of understanding, and he slips out between white tabletops and enters the break room, already looking at the TV mounted on the wall expectantly.

"Yo, Hanamaki," One of his coworkers calls out, darting his eyes to him and back at the screen, "...Isn't the Avatar your classmate?"

Hanamaki grabs his travel mug from the counter, popping the lid off and taking a gulp of room temperature coffee. Staying up the entire night is making him feel delirious with exhaustion. He leans against the sink and looks up, watching Oikawa face the camera head on with a small smile, "Yeah."

"..._came to the decision that I will be announcing some news,_" Oikawa says from the TV as everyone watches on, enraptured. "_When I started training, it dawned on me that the Avatar is rarely needed these days. The Spirit portals are well kept and we are entering an era of peace and safety._

"_I spent the last twenty birthdays by myself, without friends and family. The last time I saw them all was during high school graduation, a very long time ago,_" Oikawa nods to himself, looking off to the side, "_It was the price to pay as the Avatar, but I believe that there were lines that had been crossed. The White Lotus, who are loyal to me, perhaps have been too jaded. Always, they mentioned that I should be prioritizing training first and foremost, peace the second, and the third, family, was rarely mentioned. This topic is one where I did__ not see eye to eye with them._

"_Peace is important, yes, but I will bring up a controversial topic. What is peace to us without a relationship as its base? How can we enjoy peace without knowing that our relationships with friends and family is what we're safeguarding? For years the White Lotus would promise me that I would get to go home, always saying "Next time", or "After you finish your tests". They never delivered, not until I ran away for myself several days ago."_

A coworker scoffs, "He's crazy! He gets treated like loyalty and he has the balls to spew this ungrateful shit like they haven't clothed him and fed him during his travels."

"Shut up, Kazami," Hanamaki growls. "Why don't you spend twenty years away from your family with the White Lotus dangling the promise of visiting them like a bait?"

"What does he have to complain about?" Kazami scowls, setting down a half bitten onigiri. "He gets paraded on TV, he's the master of all four elements, he rubs elbows with important people, eats good food, doesn't need a job, and he'll probably retire easily!"

Hanamaki furiously swallows a mouthful of coffee, raising his voice, "You're such a piece of shit, if you ever think harder about what he's going through then you'd empathize with him! Yeah I agree that all the points you've listed are good, but life isn't great even if you have all of that. What's the point of retiring easy if you feel like you can't share it with someone? What the point of having a good life if you don't even _enjoy _living?"

"I'd take it! It's a lot better than working and busting ass where no one acknowledges your hard work!"

"Then you change something about it, like he's doing!"

"Oh sure!" Kazami roars, standing up and walking over to him to shower him with spit, "Let me just talk to my senpai here and ask him to be transferred to the IDSC where they don't take just anyone walking on the streets!"

His kouhai, a woman with long black hair, stands up and mutes the TV to the roars of six other people, "Hey! If you want to fight, do it somewhere else, but I only got two hours of sleep last night and I want peace and quiet!"

"Reiko! The TV!"

"That's Kataoka-san to you, Kusokasami!" She points an angry finger at her ex-husband, who cowers. She glances all around the room, hand on her hips, "Well? If you don't want to see this and would rather complain about how bad he is, get out!"

Kasami and another coworker grab their food and shuffle out the door, giving Hanamaki a stink eye before they close it shut. Kataoka unmutes the TV again, and Hanamaki sigh, dropping into the seat next to hers, "You didn't have to do that."

"It's fine, I'm sick of that guy being so arrogant anyway," She mumbles, flickering her eyes to Oikawa, who's still talking, "He's your friend right? I've always thought that he looked homesick whenever he appeared on TV."

Hanamaki watches the TV with a smile, knowing that Oikawa would huff if he ever knew people were pitying him, leaning back into the seat, "Yeah, he's always been a moody sort of loner. I'm glad he's speaking out now."

"_...to announce my plan to formally retire. I am the Avatar, but because the world doesn't need me, I will go back to my home in Japan and lie low,_" Oikawa says heavily, shoulders turned in slightly. Hanamaki stares at the TV, feeling the soreness of his feet in his shoes and feeling pride brim over himself at his former captain. "_But when the world does, they know whom to contact._"

Oikawa then stands up, the camera zooming out to show his entire torso as he slowly bows deeply, screen fading to black.

To Iwaizumi, he texts: good job to our wonder boy

"Ready?" Iwaizumi whispers, breath warm at his right ear as they lean on some side alley across the White Lotus building.

Oikawa nods, already watching his video go live from Iwaizumi's phone, held in his hands as Akaashi makes final adjustments to his cellphone that he's taping to Oikawa's shirt pocket. He's dressed in a black dress shirt with tapered pants, courtesy of Iwaizumi's wardrobe, with sleeves rolled up to his forearms and a red tie clipped to prevent it from flapping around. His hair has been gelled back, and he has his glasses perched on his nose.

They watch from the alley to several billboards blocks away switching from advertisements to Yokohama to his video. Several people shuffle off to the side to look up at the screens or down on their phones, wide-eyed and pulling off their ear buds. Shopkeepers poke their heads out, discussing amongst one another, restaurants frantically changing the channels of their television to find the video. 

"I am the Avatar," Oikawa closes his eyes, inhaling and exhaling, "I shouldn't be afraid or anything."

"That's right, Oikawa-san," Akaashi says, leaning at the opposite wall with a crooked smile, beads of sweat rolling off his forehead, "If the White Lotus wants to save face, they wouldn't dare make a public commotion. If they drag you inside and subject you to the Dai Li, they're treading illegal grounds and I know a _very _good lawyer."

At around the halfway mark of his pre-recorded video, he turns to Iwaizumi and Akaashi, who will both be hovering around this area and keeping an eye on the feed from the phone sitting in his shirt pocket. Akaashi dips his head quickly, murmuring good luck while Iwaizumi nods at him,the sunlight from the pavement beyond them scattering light on his face.

Oikawa turns, ready to step out into the sunlight and away from the shadows, the heat of Tokyo already blistering in the formal wear he has on. A hand stops him.

Iwaizumi leans close enough for Oikawa to see his pupils contract. He knows from the crushing grip that it's an apology, "Know that after this," Iwaizumi, voice low, "No matter what happens, I'm proud of you."

_I'm sorry for how I was acting_, goes unsaid.

Oikawa smiles, squeezes his hand once and moves forward. The sun shines directly on him, heating the black on his shoulders as he stands at the corner of the street to wait for the light to turn green. Someone's parasol bumps into him and the owner looks up, shocked.

"Avatar Tooru?"

He smiles at her, jamming his hands in his pockets as he crosses the road, ignoring the rise of cellphones to capture his face. He can already see guards run out of the building, Ame in the lead as she stops at the foot of the stairs, the crest of the White Lotus whipping freely in the breeze. Her eyes are wide and furious, the line of her mouth turning severely down.

"The Avatar?"

"He's right there!"

Someone cheers for him. He hears his name being strung along cuss words, looking briefly at the weeds trying to poke their way out of the ground as he clears a set of five steps with a light leap. He stops before a water fountain throwing rainbows onto the sidewalk, already feeling a drop of sweat beading on his forehead start it's slow trek down the side of his temple.

Ame, the oldest guard he knows and one he would consider family, doesn't look amused, "Avatar. What have you done?"

"Something I wanted to do since I was twenty and foolish," He smiles up at her, "You've been with me since the beginning haven't you? Think of it as a resignation letter, or retirement, I know you must be thinking about that too, since we're in the same stage of life."

"You cannot resign as the Avatar! You have duties!"

He frowns, aware that passerbys are recording him, "Duties that I have explained have nothing to do with being the Avatar. Since when was the Avatar was required to be a bodyguard? A decoration at the corner of the room full of other diplomats? A puppet the White Lotus can control?" He raises his voice, "And since when did being the Avatar meant that the White Lotus was allowed to control my life?"

She narrows her eyes, pebbles floating up, "Avatar, please reconsider your words."

He shakes his head and stomps on the ground with his shoes, "I've made excuses many times for you during my youth, thinking that you had the best interest for me. Maybe you did, but somewhere along the lines the White Lotus lost its vision. General Iroh agrees with me."

She grimaces, the pebbles bouncing back on the ground as she steps aside. For all the times Oikawa had gone up to her and ask to for something, this was the first time where she stood down quickly, though perhaps it was the fact that there were people filming and she wanted him out of the public as soon as possible, "I see that you cannot be reasoned with like this. Come inside and we will talk over tea."

He feels deception from the vibrations from his foot and turns his head slightly to the left, seeing Iwaizumi's eyes half hidden in the alley of the street across, in between a pile of crates outside a back door.

He strides forward, up the stairs and into the cool canopy of the building as he walks into the foyer, cool marble floors greeting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really thought i was going to be able to get this chapter up faster but here we are. well, im still proud of putting something up today

**Author's Note:**

> -pops out of grave- so im still very much alive! in my last work ive mentioned that ive struggled in writing (in other works too lmao) and i have a good? feeling? about this one? its still very rough but i hope the more i explore this AU and relationship (ending has not been written out but i've written the next chapter which needs to be edited profusely before being uploaded) the more i can ease myself into the flow of things. 
> 
> ive missed writing to you. have a good day, wherever you are.


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